I Can't Breathe Without You
by sap1066
Summary: 'Unless we find a way to break the connection between us, it will continue to get stronger.You couldn't breathe when you were a hundred parsecs away from me, but eventually that will reduce to the width of this room, and then to even less than that. You'll have to touch me if you want to live.' 'And then' 'And then I won't be able to keep my hands off you.'
1. Chapter 1

The first time, he came to her three days after Crait. Three days since she'd last seen him kneeling in the dirt. Three days since she'd closed the door on him and said her goodbyes.

She was carrying a cargo crate up the ramp of the Falcon when the air thickened behind her and that strange pressure in the back of her mind told her he'd arrived. She dumped the crate, stomped into the ship, the metal of the floor ringing out her anger and she hid in a cupboard. He couldn't be allowed to see her surroundings, she couldn't give away the location of the Resistance to someone who was, once again, her mortal enemy, so she turned her face to the wall and waited for him to go away. It didn't take long. He didn't attempt to speak to her and she wasn't about to talk to him, so she endured the few minutes of his presence until it faded.

The second time, he came to her only two days after the cupboard, in the middle of the night. She was dreaming about sun, and sand, before a long shadow cast itself across the desert, sucking away the bright light and she woke abruptly to darkness. She didn't reach for the lamp, preferring to pull the covers up to her neck and lie there in the black until he went away. He didn't speak to her, and she said nothing to him.

The third time was only a day later, and by then she'd had enough. She was in the middle of a strategy meeting, sitting around a table with the other members of the newly reconstituted Resistance leadership when she felt that prickling of the back of her neck again, and she pushed her chair back with a jerk.

'Something the matter, Rey?' General Organa favoured her with a concerned look.

'It's happening again.'

She ran from the room. She couldn't put anyone else in danger just because he wouldn't leave her alone. He coalesced into his usual sulky self in the middle of her bedroom floor and she ignored the sudden rush of warmth that surged through her.

'Go away,' she snapped. 'I've got nothing to say to you.'

His cloak swished as he folded his arms. 'Watch out Rey, I'm coming for you.'

'Is that supposed to be a threat? Kylo.' The last word was an accusation. It didn't seem to faze him.

'I can track you down easily enough on my own, but if you want to keep on calling me that's just fine. The Resistance will die a lot more quickly.' His hand dropped to the hilt of his lightsaber. 'That was a threat, in case you were wondering.'

Rey's fingers itched for her own sword, still in pieces on her bedside table because of him. 'I'm not calling you. The effort would kill me, remember? It's you who won't take no for an answer. I don't want to join you. I don't want to rule the galaxy with you. I don't want you. Now go away.'

His face shifted effortlessly into a scowl. 'You did, a few days ago. I haven't forgotten. You gave yourself up to Snoke because you thought I needed saving.'

She wanted to throw something at him, settled for icy disdain instead. 'You were a potential tactical asset for the Resistance. That's all.'

He took a small pace forward. 'That wasn't all. Not for you, and not for me. And the reason I know that, is because I'm not dead. I wasn't a tactical asset when I was lying on the floor unconscious after your stolen lightsaber exploded was I? I made it quite clear I was going to rule. If you'd been thinking tactically you would have killed me then, but you let me live. So anything that happens now, anything I do, is your fault since I'm only alive because of you.'

'Next time I see you you won't be,' she grated. 'And that was a threat, in case you were wondering. Now leave me alone.'

She stood there, glaring at him, waiting for him to disappear.

He stood there glaring at her, for a heartbeat, two, but nothing happened.

She felt a slight blush rise to her cheeks.

'Now would be a good time for a dramatic exit,' he suggested with an expectant expression.

'I've told you, I'm not doing this.'

'I'm not doing this either. I'd rather not have to see you, believe me.'

'Well who is it – if not either of us? Snoke's definitely dead, isn't he?'

'Incinerated. I checked. But that doesn't mean he isn't doing it.'

'You're telling me you believe in ghosts now?'

'I do, as it happens. But that isn't what I mean. Hasn't it occurred to you how much power is required to physically connect two people across that much space? To forge a bond so strong that they can touch each other? I don't think Snoke had that kind of power, not on his own anyway.'

'You think he was working with someone else?'

He shrugged. 'Unlikely. There are only ever supposed to be two Sith. If he'd had someone else, I would have known.'

'You must miss him terribly,' she said, because she knew it would annoy him.

His scowl deepened. 'The point is, he switched on this connection between us for a purpose and he isn't around to switch it off.'

'The purpose was to get us talking, I thought. We've talked. I wish we hadn't, but we have so it should be over now.'

He gave a thin smile. 'The purpose was not to get us to talk, it was to bring you to me. In person.'

'It worked. I came. You betrayed me. End of story.'

He sounded unconvinced. 'But the story hasn't ended – we're still talking. Snoke was expecting you to be dead by now, but you aren't, and he is, which means that the bond is still active. It's still trying to bring us together.'

She shifted uncomfortably. 'I don't want us to be together – I thought I made that clear. This is a dark side thing, you sort it out. Now get out of my bedroom.'

'Is that where you're hiding? I'll find you eventually. It's only a matter of time.'

She saw her opportunity. 'The Resistance has connections you don't even know about. The General has contacts from before you were born. They're going to hide us from you until we rebuild.'

His fingers twitched, and he adopted a monotonous tone with an echo of command. 'Tell me where you are.'

'In orbit around Chandrila,' she replied immediately, in a dull, semi-conscious tone, then blinked rapidly a few times as if coming round.

'Thank you.' He sounded smug.

'For what?' She feigned ignorance.

Finally, the pressure behind her eyeballs eased a little and the harsh lines of his form began to fade, and he disappeared as the Force carried him away. 'I'll see you soon.'

There was a light tap on the door, which she answered rapidly.

'Has he gone?' Leia glanced around the empty room with an expression of doubt.

'He's gone.'

'And did you set your trap?'

Rey nodded. 'It was too easy. He still thinks he can do the Jedi mind control trick on me – I pretended to fall for it this time. Do you think he'll take the bait?'

Leia nodded but the look in her eyes was full of sympathy. 'You know I do.'

General Organa had wanted the whole story of exactly how Rey, Chewbacca and the Millennium Falcon had happened to be in exactly the right place at exactly the right time, when Rey was supposed to be busy learning to levitate rocks. She had been particularly interested in the detail of the bridge between minds that Snoke had engineered, and what Rey had learned about the inner motivations of Leia's son. The older woman had been too many times around that particular orbit to be convinced by the younger woman's protestations however, and when Rey had revealed she'd seen Ben even after Snoke was dead, a few stern words had been exchanged. Rey had agreed that if Ben ever appeared to her again, she'd make sure it was in private, and if she was ever tempted into speaking to him, she should drop the name of that particular planet into conversation and see what happened next. A sick feeling lodged in the pit of her stomach, impending nausea that intensified as she switched on a pad and began monitoring the news channels.

The First Order had assumed control of Holonet, which meant that its broadcasts now featured inspiring music, rousing speeches and paeans to the might of the Order every standard hour, on the hour, but it had been supplemented by thousands of smaller broadcasters who gave a more comprehensive, less orchestrated coverage. Rey was very much hoping that she'd be left to watch all day, all week even, without seeing the item she dreaded. Everyone else avoided her, because everyone else thought she was wrong.

In the end, it only took a couple of hours. _First Order attack on Chandrila_ screamed the headlines, earnest reporters spilling out the details as Rey watched, stomach churning.

 _'Self-styled Supreme Leader of the First Order, Kylo Ren, has carried out a horrifying attack on the defenceless population of Chandrila. According to eyewitness reports aerial bombardment began an hour ago and First Order ground forces continue to arrive. Four Star Destroyers are in orbit around the planet and stormtroopers are reportedly undertaking house to house searches. Widespread damage to residential and public structures has been reported and casualties are expected. A spokesman for the First Order claimed that Chandrila was harbouring the remains of the Resistance, the same group who organised a crushing defeat on the Order itself less than a week ago. The Chandrila hierarchy has denied this, describing the attack as 'unprovoked' and 'barbaric'.'_

Rey switched the projection off, finding the background noise in the Falcon had died. Leia's hand was now clutching her shoulder.

'I told you,' she said quietly. 'Chandrila was his childhood home. If he's willing to destroy that, he's willing to destroy anything, and anyone.' She came around to face Rey, bent forward and gave her a shake. 'Ben is gone. He's been gone for a long time and he's not coming back. Whoever it was you thought you saw inside Kylo Ren, he's lost now. Let him go.'

Rey bit her lip, feeling the last dregs of hope swirl around the emptiness inside her and drain away. She hadn't wanted to believe it. She'd clung to the dream that the man she'd briefly glimpsed across a fireplace on an island in the ocean could return. Now she saw she was wrong. There was nothing of him left.

Leia's eyes searched hers anxiously. Rey knew that the General wanted her best weapon back, that a miserable, moping Rey hankering after what might have been wasn't going to help win any kind of battle.

Rey nodded once, twice, straightened her back despite the heaviness in her limbs. 'I should have killed him when I had the chance,' she said. 'I won't fail again.'

But the sick feeling in her stomach persisted for the rest of the day.


	2. Chapter 2

The first time she came to him was exactly three days, twelve hours and twenty-nine minutes after he'd last seen her on Crait. Three days since she'd closed the door on him. Three days since her final rejection.

He felt that dry itching of his eyeballs, like an animal had been sharpening its claws on his corneas and then her back popped into being in front of him, still wearing that same set of dirty rags she'd had on last time. He doubted she actually owned any other clothes. He wanted to kill her so badly the anger choked him, and he couldn't speak, able only to stretch out his hands, searching for her throat before the vision ended and he was returned to the bridge.

The second time she came to him was two days, twelve hours and forty-seven minutes after the first time, and this time he was in her bedroom. Even though all the lights were out he could hear the faint snoring coming from the other side of the room, a respiration that shortened into a few hasty breaths, and then she awoke with a snort and a smacking sound like she was sucking her teeth. He said nothing, because he was in her bedroom and he was apoplectic with rage to find himself in a situation where she could turn him down yet again.

By the third time he'd had enough. She took it upon herself to reject him again, although he hadn't asked her anything, and the only thing that cooled his ire was the realisation that she was undeniably stupid, and not worth his attention. She poked fun at his relationship with Snoke, and if she'd had half a brain she would have realised that was no laughing matter. She failed to understand the true nature of the bond between them, treating it as if it were a harmless parlour trick designed to give them the chance to chat politely, rather than the vicious, vindictive humiliation it was designed to be. And she gave away her location and with that, enabled him to wipe out both her, and all her friends. He was looking forward to it.

He'd had to step out of a military strategy meeting to avoid anyone else knowing he was speaking to the Resistance, and he stepped back in wearing the closest approximation to a smile he'd managed in some considerable time. The First Order had a lot of strategy meetings these days - with a change of leadership and a galaxy to rule there as a lot of planning to be done.

Of the twenty or so people in the room, apart from himself and Hux, he trusted exactly four, and even then, that 'trust' extended only to allowing them to bring him a drink without expecting it to be poisoned. He had electronic surveillance running on all the others; actually, he had surveillance running on those four as well, but he didn't check it as often. The entire council was loyal to Hux, each of them handpicked, promoted for loyalty to the General first, and ability and experience second, and in Kylo's opinion, it showed. In the nearly a week since he'd taken over from Snoke there had been so many meetings no one had really accomplished anything, mostly through stupidity, as far as he could see.

Hux regarded him with his cold, dead, snake eyes as Kylo re-seated himself at the end of the table on the chair that was exactly the same design, but ever so slightly larger than the ones around it. 'Feeling better Supreme Leader?'

Kylo knew that the title stuck in Hux's throat, so he insisted on it, and once or twice, when Hux was being particularly obstructive he'd used the Force to put a subtle restriction on Hux's airway, so that speaking the words really did choke him. 'I'm perfectly well. I had an urgent matter to attend to.'

Hux raised a sceptical eyebrow.

'We are going to Chandrila,' Kylo announced. 'Prepare fifteen battalions, ground assault vehicles and four Star Destroyers - but have someone strengthen the shields, we don't want another disaster like the one you oversaw last time, General. How many men did you lose on that Dreadnaught again?'

There was a brief flicker in Hux's eyes, but he didn't take the bait this time, thwarting what had become one of Kylo's favourite games. 'And why are we going to Chandrila? I'm not aware of its tactical significance.'

'It is the location of the new rebel base.' Kylo stated this as fact because, given how pathetic the girl's defences had become, he was certain that it was.

Hux rolled his eyes, or would have done, had he not realised that this would earn him another chokehold and stopped the movement mid-roll. 'That is the third rebel base this week,' he pointed out, in an overly patient tone. 'From where does this intelligence originate?'

'A reliable source.'

'That you found in the corridor?'

Kylo raised a finger. 'Don't defy me, Hux. The Resistance murdered Supreme Leader Snoke. It is our task to avenge his death.'

'Of course, Supreme Leader. But Chandrila is a small world, three quarters water with a docile population. The fish are more likely to launch a rebellion than the citizens.'

'And yet your intelligence is incomplete Hux. As ever. Chandrila was a breeding ground for the New Republic, long before the capital moved to the Hosnian system. The planet was used as a meeting place, a neutral negotiating platform for agreeing peace treaties and it was home to several of the Republic's most influential members. The rebellion is a shadow of its former self, it will retreat to a safe place in order to rebuild and it is possible that contacts exist on Chandrila who are still sympathetic to the cause.' He stopped there, hoping that Hux's intelligence capabilities were as limited as he suspected. Hux knew his birth name, it was difficult not to when there was a whole proclamation instructing everyone not to speak it, but he had never talked about his childhood to Hux or anyone else in the Order, so it was perfectly possible that the General had no idea of the personal connection he had to the planet on which he was now ordering an attack.

He continued, 'The rebellion assassinated our beloved Supreme Leader. It was Snoke who was responsible for building the entire First Order singlehanded. Snoke who dragged us out of obscurity in the Unknown Regions and created the army you now administer. We must seek revenge.'

The skin around Hux's eyes tightened. Kylo knew as well as he did that Snoke had been nothing more than a venomous spider, sitting at the heart of his web, pulling enough strings to lure in victims, and once he'd fed off them, he'd disappear again. Snoke hadn't raised the army, he hadn't put in the time and effort necessary to construct such a machine out of raw recruits and base materials. He had been very good at instilling fear but appalling at fostering loyalty. All that had been down to Hux and his family. Kylo knew it. Hux knew it. But Hux's control over the military was too strong, and it would have to be broken if a new chain of command was going to be properly established. Any opportunity to credit the role of Supreme Leader with the First Order's success needed to be taken, and Kylo made sure to reinforce this message as many times as possible.

'I will 'administer' an attack on Chandrila Supreme Leader, at your command. Did your intelligence source indicate where on the planet the rebels might be found?'

'They will be in the capital, near the coast. Go house to house.'

The capabilities of hyperdrive and the state of readiness in which the General kept his army meant that the combined forces of the Order had started landing on Chandrila only an hour or so later. Disembarking the command shuttle when the Hanna City landing facility had been secured, Kylo found he was even more angry at Rey than usual, this time for dragging him back to this benighted hole.

He recognised the landscape, undulating gently into familiar hills and valleys outside the capital, and the broad thoroughfares and ancient townhouses had changed little since he'd flown away after his last visit, vowing never to return. The sound of the sea that undercut everything was a noise he still heard periodically in nightmares. He passed through the city like a ghost, a memory of the boy he had once been, treading lightly through the recollections that filled his head, unbidden and unwanted.

Here was his first school, to which he was sent as a punishment, pushed out of the nursery and without the governesses who had trotted around attempting to teach him for the crime of not conforming enough, not listening enough, needing to learn to play well with others. This was the recreation centre he'd been forced to attend every day after school, in the hope that a regimented exercise regime would help him learn self-control or exhaust him enough that he wouldn't use his burgeoning powers at home. Here was the house of his first friend, or the first person he had wanted to be his friend, and there was the door that had been shut in his face by the mother of that other boy, who was too breakable to play with Ben Solo any more, too easily damaged. Until that point he'd always thought it was only his parents who had rejected him, from that day he learned that it was the whole world.

Here was the house, the grand and sweeping mansion where he had spent his early years, a house fit for a princess, stuffed full of antique furniture which could never be touched, vast expanses of shiny floor which would not stand up to the scratch of toys, empty rooms in which silence was expected because these visitors were important. The bedroom he had been sent to more times than he could count. He didn't go inside, preferring to head through the manicured boulevards and down to the sea.

Here it was, the structure that defined his life, a pier stretching out like a solitary finger into the waves, and there on the end, partially hidden by sun shelters and the curlicued stanchions of the roof, the exact spot where he had first met Snoke. Only by projection of course, although he had been too young to really grasp the implications of that at the time. He had often wondered since then, while recovering after another beating, or enduring another public humiliation for one failing or another, how different his life would had been if he hadn't glanced around that day and spotted the tall, spindly stranger watching him from the shadows. The man who had pulled lightning out of his fingertips and promised that one day, Ben would learn to do that himself.

This was all Rey's fault – the fact that he was back here again, reliving fragments of a past long buried. Rey's fault.

Grown up Ben turned to the captain who had trailed him throughout his journey, waiting patiently for orders. 'Search every house,' he said. 'When you find them, kill them all except the Jedi girl. No prisoners. And then flatten the city.' He pointed in the direction of the pier. 'Starting with that.'


	3. Chapter 3

'Then how do we destroy the First Order?' Poe asked again, although the same question had already been raised on a number of occasions over the last four hours. Rey had been sitting in the same position for so long she had pins and needles in her legs and had to get up to stretch them. The Resistance had a lot of strategy meetings these days, without manpower or resources there was little else they could do.

'It isn't just a case of destroying it,' Leia explained, in a patient tone that still came across as patronising. 'You have to have an alternative. The Order is the dominant governing body at the moment, if you take it down without a replacement there will be chaos. We need to think a little more long term.'

Rey could tell that Poe was going to have difficulty with that, because although she'd known him for only a week, he hadn't spent any of that time sitting still, continually craving the next call to action.

'We're pretty good at destroying their big weapons. Are there any more of those we can blow up?'

Finn shrugged. 'Maybe. I don't of know of any, but I've been gone a while now. They could be constructing anything in the Unknown Regions and we wouldn't know. That's the point.'

'Then what about the really big ships – any more of those flying around that need blasting?'

Leia expelled a breath. 'Our intelligence networks have shut down. Unless we can get someone high up in the military pecking order to start feeding us information then we'll always be reacting to their moves, rather than planning our own. Grass roots support is key. If we want to fight back, we have to start again, build a network of informants and sympathisers in the same way we've always done.'

'But that way is incredibly slow,' complained Poe, tapping a finger on the table. 'What we need is a single, decisive strike that demonstrates our strength. We need to show we can hit the First Order anytime, anywhere, or no one will ever want to join us, and that network of sympathisers will be limited to the people in this room. Why don't we just kill Kylo Ren?'

'That's your answer to everything,' Rey observed.

'It's a good answer. You see him every day. Why not just shoot him, or poison him, or stab him in the back or anything?'

'Because he's not really here – I can see him, but I can't touch him.'

'I thought you held hands?'

'Once,' she snapped.

'Well I don't like it. Why is he so interested in you? Why does he keep coming back? Why are you so reluctant to kill him? What's going on between you?'

Leia steered the conversation back onto a less well trodden course. 'Enough questions. We need action.' She faced each member of the council in turn. 'Poe – you're responsible for equipment – we need ships, weapons, a new base. Find us somewhere to settle and then get out and work your charm – we need resources, and fast. Beg or borrow whatever you can from anyone who is still friendly, or willing to extend us credit. Finn, you're in charge of intelligence, we need to know what the First Order is planning so that we can counterattack. There are lots of other rebellions across the galaxy, go and make friends with them, see if we can start a revolution, or at the very least share what we know. I'll get in touch with the surviving members of the New Republic council, see what support they can offer in forming a new government. And Rey - '

Rey looked up in anticipation.

'You're in charge of Kylo Ren.' Her shoulders slumped.

She knew that as long as he was still appearing to her she was too much of a risk to be allowed to go anywhere interesting or talk to anyone important, but she was jealous of the excited glances her two friends were giving each other as they plotted out their new roles. Disappointment made her legs wobbly as she pushed back from the table, frustration boiled in her stomach, leaving her sick and shaking.

She made it as far as her bedroom, deciding to spend a few minutes calming down, and was assaulted by a change in the air quality as the man she was now responsible for appeared in front of her, accompanied by a blaze of sudden emotion that she quashed sternly.

His hands were stretched out on either side of him, clutching something just lower than his chest and he was gazing into the distance at something she couldn't see.

'You again.'

He didn't answer, continued to stare past her left shoulder, as if waiting. She waved a hand in front of his face, but he didn't so much as blink.

'Can you hear me? How did you enjoy Chandrila?'

He opened his mouth and started shouting. ' _Now is not a good time_ ,' he declaimed, and then his volume dropped slightly. 'For recriminations or pointing the finger of blame. We must learn the lessons and move on.'

'Excuse me?'

'We are here today, the assembled armies of the First Order, to celebrate our successes, not mourn our defeats.'

She looked at his posture more carefully, squinted out in the direction on which he'd fixed his attention. 'Are you giving a speech?'

He shouted, ' _Yes,'_ and then his voice dropped again. 'We have come a long way. We have journeyed from obscurity, from the uttermost depths of the Unknown Regions, and only now are we finally taking our rightful place among the stars.'

'You're really not doing this, are you?' she wondered. 'The last thing you need is someone invisible distracting you in the middle of a big speech. If you were responsible for linking our minds again you'd have chosen to see me at a more convenient time.'

' _I wouldn't have chosen to see you at all_ ,' he yelled. 'I wouldn't have chosen to speak to you today, my loyal troops, my devoted legions, were I not confident of our strength. Were I not confident of our power. Were I not certain that together, we can destroy the Resistance.'

Rey grinned. 'That's not going so well for you, is it? I had an argument with your mother. She said that if I suggested we were hiding on Chandrila you'd go and destroy it, and I said you wouldn't. She told me you were happy there. You used to love the sea, apparently. You'd jump over the waves, laughing. I watched a holo of you from when you were about four, it was so sweet. I didn't think you'd go and smash up the whole planet.'

A frown creased his forehead, and his fingers clenched on the invisible lectern. ' _You are responsible for that_ ,' he began, then continued to address the crowds. 'It is your strength, and your hard work, your effort and your bravery which has made the First Order into the terrific fighting unit it is today. We have established ourselves as the pre-eminent force in the galaxy.'

'And what are your plans for the galaxy?' she asked. 'Now that you're in charge. Another Starkiller Base? Another Death Star? Something larger perhaps? There are a lot of people here quite interested in what they'll have to blow up next.'

' _I have no intention of telling you_ ,' he thundered. 'That there isn't still more work to be done. The First Order cannot rest until we have complete control of every system. Until every planet bows to our will.'

She found she was mildly irritated by that. 'No one is going to bow to you, Ben. No one is going to kneel. Not after I've put that holo of you dancing naked in the sea all over the news channels. They'll be too busy laughing.'

His face darkened. ' _You would not dare_ ,' he bellowed. 'To have told me even a year ago that I would be standing here now, as your Supreme Leader, master of a fighting force powerful enough to have the galaxy at our command. We have come a long way in a little time. And we have much further to go.'

'Go and rebuild Chandrila, exactly as you remember it,' she ordered. 'Or I will release that recording to the media. That was also a threat. Now I came in here to go to bed, and you're in the way.'

He wasn't able to look away from his audience, so she knew she was safe to stand behind him and change into some old shorts and a loose top, and then she sauntered past him and got into bed. Her sickness alleviated almost as soon as she was under the covers, but she didn't want to look stupid in front of him by getting out again so instead she lay there listening to him drone on until the monotony of it sent her to sleep.

Later, she caught up on the recording of his first speech since taking over as leader on Holonet, complete with random shouting and quite a lot of sentences that didn't make sense. She watched as, only a few minutes in, he tracked something that went past his left shoulder and stopped directly in front of him, before he deliberately averted his eyes. At regular points during the speech she noticed his gaze jump back to that same spot, and flick away again, his attention pulled back over and over despite the obvious attempts he was making to stop. She switched it off about half way in and smiled to herself, felt a tiny spark of that old pernicious hope relight inside her.

Maybe the man she knew wasn't quite lost after all.


	4. Chapter 4

She'd gone to sleep. He checked again. Yes. She'd definitely gone to sleep right in the middle of his maiden speech, right in the middle of his explanation of how the whole galaxy was going to be different now that he was in charge. This was what he'd asked her to be part of, this was the new order he was about to create, and she was so uninterested in it, in him, that she'd nodded off.

He gritted his teeth, remembered that he was supposed to be looking authoritative, relaxed his jaw again.

A lock of hair drooped across her face. It kept rising and falling with her breath and he wanted, for a split second, to go over there and move it just to eliminate the distraction. After Chandrila, he'd been hoping to see her when he wasn't busy, and preferably when he had a lightsaber in his hands so he could test how strong the Force bond was without Snoke to steer it - if they could touch, it was possible he could hit her, kill her even. The hair distracted him and he had to look at the words rolling over the autoprompter for a few seconds before he remembered what he was supposed to be saying next.

It was probably better that her eyes were closed. He had always found the honesty in her gaze disturbing, like she could see right down into his heart and rip out any part she chose. He'd believed, on some fundamental level, that she couldn't lie. But that had been proven wrong. She'd lied to him, sent him off chasing shadows, forced him to visit an uncomfortable past and for nothing – all they had found of the rebels on Chandrila were a few elderly residents of a nursing home who vaguely remembered General Organa but hadn't seen her in twenty years. Hux had stared at him steadily throughout the interrogation without a single comment.

She looked like a child when she was asleep though. An innocent, naïve child, someone who thought putting a recording of him dancing in the sea out to the media would damage his reputation in any way. That was his mother's influence. Probably his mother's suggestion. And since he didn't recall his mother ever having come to the beach with him once, the holo Rey had mentioned was probably a fake anyway. But still. His actions on Chandrila had proved his mother right, and that just added more fuel to an already raging fire.

Why had she gone to sleep – was his speech that boring? He'd written it in conscious imitation of the speeches Snoke used to give – all impressive statements and posturing, but since the army was used to simply standing and listening he wasn't getting much of a reaction from the thousands and thousands of impassive white helmets in front of him. Maybe he should try a different approach – that might wake her up. He improvised the closing remarks.

'It is time for change. The First Order that stands in front of me in future will not be the same one I see today. We will let go of the past. We will bring structure to chaos. We will impose peace on discord. Together, you and I will bring a new order to the galaxy.'

He glanced over at her quickly to see if her attention had been grabbed, but she slept on. Next time he saw her, he was going to punish her for that.

Hux arched an eyebrow at him as he marched off the stage. 'Are you going explain to me how the First Order is going to be different in future, Supreme Leader?'

'You'll find out, soon enough,' he snapped.

Towards the back of the stage, in a spot camouflaged from Hux's beady gaze one of the four lackeys he trusted was waiting and beckoned him over with the wave of a holopad. This particular flunkey had once disagreed with Hux in a meeting and was consequently Kylo's current favourite. 'You asked me to monitor any communications from Chandrila, Supreme Leader.' The man tapped at the screen. 'This broadcast didn't originate from Chandrila, but it's been playing on a number of the smaller news channels for the last hour or so. I thought you should see it?'

Kylo watched the screen as a very small, out of focus Kylo Ren was approached by a black uniformed officer, who saluted, and delivered a brief message, at which point tiny Kylo ignited his lightsaber and began smashing it into the ruins of a substantial townhouse, until he had covered himself in plaster dust from head to foot. The recording showed the moment he'd been informed that there was no sign of the rebels, and he realised that Rey had tricked him. The caption on the recording was _Kylo Ren humiliated by Resistance on Chandrila_. Already comments were being added beneath the recording, none of them showing the proper respect for his position.

'Is this on a Resistance controlled broadcast frequency?' he asked.

The man gave him an odd look. 'There are no Resistance controlled broadcast frequencies. I thought I'd show it to you because the video is already being linked with this one.' He tapped the screen again, and a sharply defined, perfectly in focus film of Kylo fighting Luke Skywalker on Crait and losing came up, with a close up of the look on his face when he saw he'd been fooled and his shout when it dawned on him that the Resistance had escaped once again. 'This one has been the top news item for a few days on every service that isn't Holonet.'

Kylo felt the usual surge of anger pressing on the back of his throat. 'Rebel scum. I will kill them all,' he spat.

The man in front of him stepped back half a pace at the vehemence of the words, but seemed to recover his composure and turned the pad around so that Kylo had to face the sight of his own mistake yet again. 'Sir? Have you noticed the angle of the recording, sir?' He thrust the pad out hesitantly, played the holo again. 'This has been taken from behind you. The rebels weren't behind you, they were in front, hiding in the caves. Which means that this recording can only have been made on First Order equipment.' The man retreated a few more paces, gauging his reaction.

A feeling of nausea swirled around his guts and Kylo felt unsteady on his feet for a swift moment. There was a traitor in the ranks, and it was pretty obvious who it was. He glanced around to see if Hux was still watching, but the slippery General had slithered somewhere else. Hux hadn't agreed with a single thing that Kylo had done since he'd taken charge, but there had been no outright disobedience. Instead, every decision he had made had been greeted with a significant look, an unenthusiastic assent, and an air of disappointment, as if Kylo was constantly failing to live up to expectations. Of course, he'd smacked Hux around a bit, used the Force to choke him once or twice a day, suspended him from the ceiling for a few minutes, dragged him face down along the floor, but nothing extreme, he'd just reminded the General who was in charge. It seemed that the General wasn't getting the message.

Hux would be dead already if not for a nagging, half remembered voice in his head that told him that he couldn't simply destroy Hux without having an alternative. Hux was the dominant force in the army at the moment, and if Kylo took him down without a replacement there would be chaos. It would take a while to cement his own authority over the army, but as soon as that was complete, Hux was leaving, preferably through the nearest airlock.

Feeling slightly calmer at the thought of Hux's purpling face screaming at him as he floated away in space, Kylo turned back to the man with the pad. 'I want you to find every single station broadcasting these recordings and shut them down. Destroy their equipment. Take them off air.'

The man – who he decided to dub Captain One, since he couldn't be bothered to try to remember the man's real name – looked horrified. 'But there are thousands of them,' he protested.

'Then you'd better get started. I expect a report back on your progress tomorrow.'

It was only later, when he was busy in the gym that he allowed himself to digest properly what Rey had said. There was something about the burn of his muscles when he pushed himself to the limits of endurance that set his mind free, and he was certainly feeling the burn this evening. He was only an hour into his usual programme, but his body just wasn't responding in the way it usually did. He felt tired, and everything was hurting more than it should – he couldn't lift the same amount of weight in the resistance element and he struggled to finish repetitions that were usually second nature. In the end he pushed himself into a run on the virtual treadmill, although he was built for strength, not speed and he usually found running boring.

He couldn't let that woman think she was right about him. He couldn't stand to have her out there somewhere, smug and self-satisfied, thinking that she knew the real Ben Solo, comforting herself with the thought that she could still manipulate his actions, that she still had him under her thumb. As he ran, he called the second of the captains from the council who weren't entirely Hux's creatures – this one had agreed with a point Kylo had made about three days ago, which qualified him for a position in the band of four trusted aides.

The channel connected, and the Supreme Leader started without preamble. 'I want you to rebuild Chandrila. Not all of it. Just the harbour. Put it back the way it was. Don't make a fuss about it, just make sure it's done.'

'Supreme Leader?'

Snoke was dead. Kylo had personally had his remains removed from the Supremacy and burned into ash while he'd watched, but he'd walked away still feeling the black dirt of Snoke's influence all over him like a stain. It was going to take some time to wash off. Destroying the pier had helped and taking apart Snoke's control over the First Order would help some more – the Force had broken his chains, he just had to keep remembering that he was free. He could afford to show his mother that he wasn't her weapon either, no longer subject to her machinations or her plots.

'You heard me,' he told Captain Two. 'Take a small crew from the civil engineering department and reconstruct the harbour. And don't tell Hux.'

He cut the call. The running wasn't helping, he was still in pain and not in a good way – the endorphin rush that usually counterbalanced the exertion of exercise didn't come and he just felt sluggish and slow. He pushed the stop button, reminding himself that Snoke was no longer around to check his progress and he could stop any time he wanted to. But the guilt still followed him round, and even when he was alone in his room he found it hard to sleep. The only thing that helped block out the ache of his muscles was the memory of a lock of hair, drooping over a mouth soft and warm with sleep, rising and falling, rising and falling. And the peace that memory brought made him feel even more guilty.


	5. Chapter 5

Despite a late night, and a compensatory lie in in the next morning Rey still felt lethargic when she got out of bed. Her body ached, but she concluded that was because she'd been stuck on the Falcon for too long without any exercise and her muscles were atrophying in retaliation. The ship had landed to let Poe begin his search for resources, and he was busy in a local dockyard attempting to acquire a long-range craft capable of reconnoitring for possible bases.

Rey slipped out at a quiet moment, determined that Ben's unwanted presence in her life wouldn't make her a prisoner or compromise her independence in any way. She took care to choose an innocuous piece of grassland to practise on however, somewhere that could be anywhere should he happen to visit. She'd brought her staff, since she still had no idea how to fix her lightsaber and went through a warm up, hoping that eventually the trusty wood would stop feeling so leaden in her hands. She battled imaginary foes until her arms ached, so engrossed in the silent complaints of her body that she didn't notice his arrival.

'I see Luke taught you nothing,' he commented, and she span, finishing with the weapon at his throat, stomping on the unwanted tingle of pleasure that accompanied his presence.

'He didn't teach you enough either,' she replied, whirling the staff. 'Since you couldn't beat him, and he made you look like a fool.'

'I'd have beaten him if he'd had the courage to face me in person,' he snapped.

She raised an eyebrow. 'You didn't have the courage to face him in person. You blasted him with every weapon you had while you were hiding on your shuttle. I've seen the footage.'

'That's hardly surprising. That footage has been airing on repeat on some of the broadcast channels, or it was, before I shut them all down. And destroyed their transmitters.'

She shook her head, beginning her practice routine all over again but with him as the target, the end of the staff whistling through his insubstantial form. 'Poor Ben.' She emphasised the words with a double jab. 'Trying to be a benevolent dictator while everyone else spreads fake news. Did you tell them the truth about Snoke, by the way? Did you admit to killing him, or did you just say I did it?'

He shrugged off his cloak, and the lightsaber ignited in his hands. 'I have no interest in being benevolent.' He countered the next blow of her staff, or he would have done, had the weapons actually been able to connect. 'I don't need people to like me.'

'That's obvious,' she said, taking another swing, which he parried, then dodged closer with a counter attack. 'You have a problem with people who like you. They end up dead.'

His face set, and for long minutes his strikes were more vicious, and she retreated beneath them, breathing hard. 'You're referring to the uncle who tried to kill me perhaps? Or the father who abandoned me the minute he understood my power?'

'And Snoke,' she said. 'And me, except I'm not dead yet. You betray everyone you're close to.' She hit out at his head as hard as she could.

He deflected the incorporeal shot with a murderous look. 'Or they betray me. Like you did.'

She span, attempted a leap but her knee buckled under her and she landed hard. 'Have you made any progress in stopping this ever happening again? Not that I'm not enjoying pretending to hurt you, of course.'

He whacked her bad leg with a chop of his blade. 'Not yet. I was too busy trying to capture you on Chandrila.'

'If you were the person I thought you were, you wouldn't have gone there in the first place.'

'And if you were the person I thought you were you wouldn't have put innocent lives at risk by pretending to be somewhere you weren't.'

'That was your mother, not me.' She hit him hard enough to do him serious injury, had he actually been standing in front of her.

'She's always had a ruthless streak,' he acknowledged.

'So how did you enjoy going home? Lots of good memories?'

He swung at her legs, forcing her to jump to avoid a swift amputation. 'I don't have good memories. Of there or anywhere else. I made sure everything I recognised was flattened.'

'Everyone has good memories of something,' she insisted, trying for a sweeping lunge.

He changed the subject, not very subtly. 'Have you noticed that these little visits are getting longer?'

She nodded. 'I was hoping you'd be gone by now.'

'I think whatever Snoke started is getting stronger.'

'I don't see how anyone can possibly force us together if we don't want to go.'

She windmilled the staff, driving him backwards, but he span quickly to counter, would have landed a fatal blow to the back of her neck if they'd been on the same planet. 'I don't know,' he said. 'But whatever Snoke had in mind for this bond between us, I guarantee you won't like it.'

'I'll help you work out what's going on,' she offered, without really thinking it through. 'I have some old Jedi books, there might be a clue in there.'

He didn't smile, but the ferocity of his blows appeared to lessen somewhat. 'Thank you,' he said.

He was gone before she could regret the suggestion.

She stumbled back to the Falcon, unfeasibly tired, muscles now aching from the sudden bout of exercise, and slumped on her bed for a while before regaining enough energy to begin flicking through the books she'd taken from Ahch-To. The smell and feel of the paper under her fingers was something of a novelty, as were the illuminated designs which littered the manuscripts, and the swirling calligraphy. The language was archaic, and she could barely understand a third of it, but took especial care to translate when she reached a section on weapons.

Lightsabers, it appeared, could be constructed in various different forms, although the book was somewhat hazy on the key subject of power distribution and wiring diagrams. It seemed she had two main options with the broken sword on her bedside table – either construct a new weapon with the smaller blades, using the same crystal, assuming it was still functional, or find a new crystal and start all over again. The book wasn't particularly helpful on the best location for kyber crystals, far more concerned with the various rituals and rites of passage Jedi were supposed to go through before finding one.

She was too tired to wade through the rest of the stack, putting the remainder of the books aside for another day, and settled in front of a holopad instead. She was sure she hadn't always been like this after a fight. Usually the adrenalin sustained her, and she had enough energy to complete the rest of her day without difficulty, but she felt drained, exhausted, unable to do anything but scroll through news items and holovids, the more undemanding the better. She was paging through Holonet a while later, noting the publicity pictures of Kylo Ren in various commanding poses with which it was now littered when she came across a small item, half buried between praise for the latest First Order ion canon and a piece on how happy the natives of a planet conquered six months ago were with their new leadership.

 _Chandrila rebuilding programme announced_ , was the leader, and Rey went on to read that the First Order would be sponsoring a limited reconstruction programme on the 'forgotten backwater' of Chandrila, which the Resistance had recently pretended to be using as a base, as a result of their 'cowardice and duplicity.' Rebuilding efforts would be targeted at public infrastructure, with a focus on the harbour and coastal areas in the vicinity of the capital city.

The piece was small, the detail scanty, but it fanned the spark of something warm inside her nonetheless.

She had offered to help him. She'd looked surprised to hear those words coming out of her mouth, but she hadn't recanted them. Far away, wherever she was on that rusting piece of garbage, she was going to look in her Jedi books and see if she could help him. The books intrigued him, he'd have given a lot for some time alone with the collected wisdom of the Jedi order, but they were secondary to the fact that she was offering to help him, voluntarily, as if they were something other than mortal enemies.

Of course, he reminded himself, she had offered her help because she thought that would mean she'd never have to see him again, so this was just another rejection, albeit delayed, but it meant something to him anyway.

'Supreme Leader?' From the other end of the table Hux was waving in a sarcastic manner. 'You were describing your plans for the future of the First Order, Supreme Leader? Maybe you could give us your full attention?'

He choked Hux absentmindedly, until the shiny black table was covered in the General's saliva, and his face was as red as the Praetorian Guard. 'I was saying that for an organisation called the First Order, we've never really focused enough on order. What are the key elements in the galaxy that prevent it from doing as we tell it?' He glanced around the room, looking for a likely candidate and settled on Captain Three – a woman who had once held the door open for him and saluted without being reminded. 'You – what do you think?'

'Rebellion, my lord.' She gave a little smile, and he decided he liked that title nearly as much as he enjoyed being called supreme leader. 'The Resistance prevents the galaxy from obeying our commands.'

That answer was a guaranteed crowd pleaser, but he appreciated the sentiment nevertheless. 'Of course. But it isn't just the group that calls itself the Resistance that we need to destroy – there are plenty of other groups out there who are resisting us. We need to plan how to eliminate them as well. What else?'

'The – ah – planets we've conquered, Supreme Leader. Not all of them like being conquered. They keep rebelling and we have to police them. It's quite time consuming.' This was Captain Two, who appeared to be getting into the habit of sympathising with planets, after being given that work on Chandrila to do.

It occurred to him then that Rey might find out about the rebuilding work and think that he'd ordered it because she'd asked him to, rather than as a way to get back at his mother. He'd have to set her straight next time he saw her. He didn't want her thinking that she had any kind of hold over him – it was quite the other way around. She liked him. She'd been listing the people who liked him – the rest of whom were dead, and she'd included herself in the list. She's also left him alive when she could easily have killed him. And she'd given herself up to Snoke because she wanted him to turn away from the dark side without a thought for the consequences of her actions – she'd been prepared to die for him. Putting that together with the fact that she was now going to help him break the bond between them led to one, inescapable conclusion: Rey of the Jedi was in love with him.

There was silence in the room, and he realised with a start that Hux was glaring at him.

'Then we will offer them the opportunity for self rule on condition that they do what we ask them to do. That will stop the rebellions and we still get what we want. And they'll have to pay us for the privilege. Anything else?'

'There's quite a lot of crime. Some of the cartels are nearly as strong as we are in some of the more remote systems. People are more scared of the slavers than they are of us.' The last of Kylo's favourite four made this suggestion, a young man, who rarely said much, but nodded a lot whenever Kylo opened his mouth.

It had been a long time since anyone had been in love with him, certainly not since he'd apprenticed himself to Snoke. It had been a long time since he'd felt the touch of a woman's hand either, or anyone's hand, for that matter. The memory of it twisted his stomach.

As a young, single man, he'd had a healthy working relationship with his cock, until a few days into this new life, with Ben Solo a fading memory, when Snoke had taken the opportunity to read his mind in public and had revealed, in between laughter, exactly what Kylo had been imagining in the privacy of his chambers the night before. Snoke had given a blow by blow account to everyone in the audience chamber including the then Captain Hux, what the woman Kylo had dreamed up had said while she was sucking him off, how impressed she had been by his size, how enthusiastically she had swallowed the mouthful he'd given her. Kylo hadn't laid a finger on himself since, knowing that Snoke would have taken great delight in humiliating him afterwards. Passion was a central part of Snoke's teaching, but it was supposed to be used to gain strength, the same as all emotion, not spent into a tightly clamped fist.

He recovered himself. 'Then we will make the criminals afraid of us. Anything else?'

'What about our slaves Supreme Leader?' Captain Four was clearly keen on slaves.

Kylo shrugged. 'If they cause trouble free them. We need order more than we need slaves. Any more suggestions?'

'Wars. There are still a few wars between systems, they are too busy fighting each other to obey us,' Captain One chipped in.

'Then I will use our armies to end these wars. We should be the only military force in the galaxy.' He grinned at Hux. 'It will be a pleasure to lead the First Order into battle.'

Rey was in love with him. He had no personal feelings for her any more of course, all that had been destroyed by her callous rejection of his offer to join him, but he was pleased with the thought that he'd exposed her deepest secret without even having to read her mind. Thinking about how she must miss him sustained him through the rest of the day, which was surprisingly uncomfortable, since his body refused to recover from the fight he'd had with her earlier no matter how much medication he took, or how long the hot bath was in which he lay, while her image filled his head.


	6. Chapter 6

Rey awoke late the next morning to find Ben lying beside her in bed. She was conscious of that scratchy irritation in her brain, the gentle soothing rush as it turned into something like happiness but the sight of a black clad leg at very close range still came as something of a shock.

She scrambled backwards quickly, hanging off the end of the mattress while clutching the covers to her chin. Given his position propped up against the headboard, ankles crossed, a scatter of holopads in his lap, he must be in his own bed, or leaning somewhere he was confident he wouldn't be disturbed. He didn't look over at the movement, fingers still skimming the technology in his hands.

'You get up very late.' The disapproval was evident.

'Not always. I've been very tired recently.'

He flashed a sharp look at her and she pulled the fabric closer. 'Could you close your eyes while I get out of bed?'

His sigh was both impatient and long suffering and she waited until his fingers stilled before dashing out of bed in the direction of a robe. There was a knock on the door immediately afterwards and she was conscious of his eyes tracking her as she went to answer it.

Poe stood on the other side, bearing a small bag and a beaming grin. 'Missed you at breakfast. I've come to say goodbye.'

'Now isn't a good time. He's in here.' She inclined her head with a significant look and Poe's expression darkened.

He put a foot across the threshold, barged her backwards as he came in. 'Where is he?'

She kept her voice to a whisper, hoping that whatever the man on the bed was reading it was keeping him completely engrossed. 'Over there.'

'He's in bed with you?' Poe's voice was incredulous. 'You let him in bed with you?'

'Of course not.' She forgot to whisper. 'I haven't invited him. He was there when I woke up.'

'And what's he doing?'

She shrugged. 'Reading, by the look of it.'

Poe squinted. 'I can't see him.' He reached for the blaster at his hip. 'But that's not a problem.'

He fired off several shots, punching holes in the bed and setting part of the mattress on fire.

'Who are you talking to?' Ben was only mildly interested, rather than seriously injured.

'Poe Dameron. I think you two have met. He just tried to kill you.'

He raised an eyebrow, maintaining his position suspended in mid-air although Rey's bed had just collapsed onto the metal floor of her bedroom and continued to smoulder. 'He does know that I'm not actually here?'

'He knows,' she confirmed. 'But he'd like to kill you anyway.'

'Are you having a conversation with him?' Poe was getting more annoyed by the minute. 'Are you treating him like he's a normal person?'

'It's hard not to. He's here all the time. He rarely leaves me alone for a whole day anymore.'

'I could say the same about you. It's only sixteen hours and forty-seven minutes since I saw you last.'

'How do you know that?'

'I'm counting.' He returned to his reading.

Poe stepped closer. 'I have a theory about that. Just go with me for a minute.'

The he stepped very close, put her arms around his neck, tilted her chin and kissed her, holding her waist tightly enough that it took some effort and her palms braced against his chest to get him to back off. A lightsaber blade had appeared in close proximity to his neck, although he couldn't see it. The man wielding it didn't waste words, simply probed the air for a target.

'What's he doing?' hissed Poe.

Still reeling at the unwanted encounter Rey wiped her lips on the back of her hand. 'Trying to kill you. What was that all about?'

Poe stabbed a finger at her. 'This is personal. If not for you, then for him. He appears in your bedroom, in your bed and he makes conversation. It shouldn't matter to him who you kiss, but his first reaction when someone does is to try to kill them. Doesn't that worry you? I know Leia thinks this is all some big battle between the dark and the light, but she doesn't see what's in front of her face. Kylo Ren is here for you. You mean something to him personally. You're in danger as long as he keeps visiting. You need to find a way to make it stop.'

'What's he saying?' Ben demanded. The humming blade was steady, and Rey had no doubt that Poe would already be dead if this was any more than a hallucination.

'He says I need to find a way to make you stop visiting me.'

The weapon was extinguished. 'I agree with him. What did you find in those Jedi books?'

Rey ignored him. 'Are you leaving then?' she asked Poe.

'I'll be gone for a few days. I just wanted to tell you to take care of yourself while I'm gone. I know you don't like being stuck on the ship but as soon as I find us a base you'll have a bit more freedom, as long as you can get rid of him.' He jerked a thumb in the wrong direction.

'I'll try,' she promised. 'And good luck.' The door shut behind him.

'Poe is gone,' she confirmed, in response to the unspoken enquiry.

'Does he force himself on you a lot?' The question had a threat behind it, and it wasn't aimed at her.

She shook her head. 'He's never kissed me before. He was trying to prove a point.'

'That you're easy to take advantage of when you're tired?'

'No. That I mean something to you, personally.'

He shrugged. 'Maybe once. But you turned me down and I never ask twice. Shall we look at those books?'

She was shaken by that admission, and the casual way in which he uttered it. It appeared she'd lost something she wasn't aware of having and she picked up the book she'd been reading with numb fingers, holding it out. 'I stole them from Ahch-To when Luke wouldn't teach me. I decided to teach myself.' The book passed straight through his hand.

'Open it, and I'll look over your shoulder.'

She sank to the floor, cross-legged and he leaned over peering at the random pages she flicked through with close attention. Despite the fact that he wasn't actually in the room, or in fully physical form anyway, her back tingled with the warmth of his chest so close against it, and she was conscious of her heart speeding up a notch.

She flipped a page and attempted to concentrate. 'I can't read much of what it says, can you?'

'No, but I'm willing to spend quite a lot of time trying. There's always been a question in my mind about the Jedi, which Luke was never able to answer. Where are all the really powerful ones? As far as I can tell the Force isn't finite – there isn't so much power for the dark side and so much for the light – so how come individual Sith lords are so much more powerful than individual Jedi? Snoke was the most powerful Force user I've ever seen, much stronger than Luke and my grandfather was responsible for hunting down and destroying most of the Jedi, he beat them all. Why aren't the Jedi as strong as the Sith? Maybe there's a secret here that the Jedi never unlocked, maybe I could add it to what I already know. If I could harness both sides of the Force I'd be unbeatable.'

She let that sink in for a minute. 'Or I could just show you this interesting section on weapons I read. I need to rebuild my lightsaber, but this book doesn't say where you get kyber crystals from. Do you have any ideas?'

'Can I see the damage?'

She picked up the broken weapon, turned the pieces over carefully in both hands, giving him a good look.

He shook his head. 'That was a family heirloom. You should have been more careful with it. It never belonged to you.'

'You're the one who broke it. How do I fix it?'

'You'll need a new crystal. The caves on Ilum would be a good place to start. Get a new crystal and I'll help you make a new lightsaber.'

'And why would you do that?'

She glanced over her shoulder for an answer, found he was in the process of leaving.

At least she had something to do now, something else to focus on apart from her daily visits, a task to accomplish that had nothing to do with him.

But when she tried to get up from the floor her legs buckled underneath her and she fell.

He heaved himself off the floor, rested his head against the wall behind his bed and searched the ceiling for answers. He had been in bed before she arrived, for the simple reason that it hurt too much to get out of it. The dull, aching throb in his muscles that had bothered him the previous day had intensified into a deep thrumming pain that had spread into his bones. He'd woken to it earlier, after barely a few snatched hours of sleep, fraught with nightmares, and lain there in the dark understanding instinctively what was happening.

He was in pain, and pain meant Snoke.

For years and years pain had been part of his daily life, physical pain mostly, although Snoke hadn't stinted on the emotional and psychological torture either, and it was inconceivable that the wracking spasms shooting through his nerve endings barely a week after Snoke's death wouldn't have the same cause. This was Snoke's bond at work, punishing him from beyond the grave for defying the will of his master. Snoke had wanted Rey and he'd humiliated Kylo to get to her, consciously breaking his spirit so that she'd see his weakness and come running. This was the same thing, Kylo's suffering a lure to draw her in, and an incentive to his apprentice to seek her out.

He breathed through it, knowing from long experience that the only way forward was one step at a time, one breath at a time, slow and steady. Focus. Concentration. Never giving in.

He'd had no choice but to set the trap. The pain was only going to get worse until they were together, which meant he had to draw her out, one way or another. She'd mentioned her broken lightsaber and he'd seen his chance. The First Order could get to the caves of Ilum before her, would be waiting when she arrived and once she was captured he'd bring her on board his flagship and the pain would go away. Then he could concentrate on smashing Snoke's mental handcuffs and get on with his life.

She'd come for the crystal because she trusted him, and she trusted him because she loved him. He hadn't missed the flicker in her eyes when he'd deliberately suggested that he'd cared for her once, but not anymore – she'd been hurt, wounded by that. Nor had he missed the increased rate of her heartbeat when he'd sat too close, the shallowness of her respiration, the slight flush on her cheeks.

The pain arced across deeply buried receptors, sparking a trail of agony that burned as it passed. He'd managed to get up and dressed and started working before she'd appeared but it was going to take a significant effort of will to get through the day.

Focus. Concentration. Breathing through it.

He pressed a button on the commlink beside his bed. 'I want Destroyers in a holding pattern around Ilum as soon as possible. Ground troops saturating the planet. Special forces in the caves. It's a target acquisition mission, you are to capture Rey of the Jedi and bring her to me, unharmed.'

'Understood, Supreme Leader.'

But he wasn't finished. 'I also want a trace put on a Resistance fighter called Poe Dameron. His biometric data is in the archive, send it out to all units and anyone locating it has orders to shoot on sight. I want him dead.'

'Right away, Supreme Leader.'

He leaned his head against the wall again, closed his eyes and the memory crept into his mind, an unwelcome visitor.

Crouching on the floor in a puddle of his own blood, the bowcaster shot to his side dripping freely, the slash to his face raw and burning, his head bowed, his mind open. Snoke's prying fingers rifling through his brain. There was no medical attention until his master allowed it, no release from the pain of failure, just more humiliation. At that point he'd had no other wish than to be dead.

'And what did you do then, my apprentice?' There was no need for the question, Snoke already knew.

'I killed my father.' The words cost him, made it real.

'And yet you are weaker than ever. Bested by an untrained girl. How have you fallen so far?'

He didn't answer, kept his head down.

The creature penetrated his mind, thrust its consciousness into the secret places inside which should have stayed private. 'The girl. She intrigues you. She attracts you.' The thing hissed, more monster than man. 'You desire her.'

He looked up then, aware that tears were streaking his face, half hoping that Snoke would strike him down for showing such weakness. 'I killed my father, Supreme Leader.'

Snoke stretched out a clawed hand. 'Well done, my apprentice.'

That same memory had assailed him in the throne room, watching Rey have her mind forced open in the same way that Snoke had done to him, many times. The cruellest stroke. Snoke had used the phrase and it had sailed straight over Rey's head and hit its intended target. Kylo had understood then what Snoke was going to ask him to do.

The cruellest stroke was the one that killed the thing you loved.

Snoke knew about the feelings that had leapt into life the first time he'd met Rey, confused and indistinct, but strong, strong enough to throw him off during the battle in the forest, preventing him from pressing his advantage and allowing her to find the light and fight back. Feelings that had sharpened and become more defined every time the Force connected their minds, until he found himself counting the minutes since he'd seen her last. Feelings that had culminated in one desperate plea in which he'd wanted her to share his throne and his life and she'd thrown it all back in his face and rejected him, just like everyone else.

Now he felt nothing, except that flare of jealousy when he'd seen her kissed by another man.

He sighed, the pain flashed across this body, and he tightened his lips to suppress a gasp. It was going to be a very long day. He gritted his teeth and got up.


	7. Chapter 7

It took Rey some time to lever herself into a standing position, having to rely on her staff to hobble down the corridor in the direction of the sick bay. There was no strength left in her legs, they felt like two lumpen weights beneath her that she had to drag along using the power of her arms and sheer force of will. Her feet turned at awkward angles across the floor as she stumbled down the corridor, finally tumbling onto a medical cot and stabbing blindly at the buttons which would initiate a scan. The equipment was all remotely operated, mechanised as far as possible so that no other crew members would need to stop piloting the ship, or shooting at pursuers, in order to tend to the injured.

Rose lay on the other bed, her eyes closed, a scanner passing to and fro across her chest. Her internal injuries were substantially healed, but she still needed several hours a day under the dermal regenerator to assist the natural recuperative abilities of her body.

The equipment beeped, and Rey read the screen with disbelief.

'What's wrong with you?' Rose's eyelids were still shut, but she turned her head in Rey's direction.

'Nothing, apparently. That can't be right though, I can barely walk, and I've been feeling tired for days. More than tired actually.' She thought back. 'And I've felt sick a few times, and my knee went in the middle of a fight. Something's not right.'

'But the scan says no physical injury?'

'None at all. I'm fit, apart from the fact that my legs aren't working.'

'Run a brain scan?' Rose suggested.

'I have done. It's normal.'

'An infection then? A parasite?'

Rey shook her head. 'It's clear.'

'An illness, a degenerative illness, something hereditary?'

'I'm not in contact with my family, I wouldn't know if I had anything hereditary or not.' She regretted the acid in her tone. 'This is something else.'

'Then is it maybe, something that someone has given you? Is it a poison? Some kind of weapon?' Rose cracked her eyes open, watched Rey's face carefully.

'No one hates me this much.'

Rose's face assumed a completely neutral expression. 'Poe stopped by before he left. He said you had Kylo Ren in your bedroom. It's none of my business Rey, but couldn't he have given you something?'

'Poison is not his style.' Rey was sure. 'When he tries to kill me, it will be face to face.' Her mind, unaffected by the paralysis that seemed to be creeping across her body, whirred with possibilities. 'But there is someone else that might be doing this, and he's dead. Excuse me, I have some reading to do.'

She hauled her unresponsive lower half back down the corridor, collapsing back onto her bed and picking up another dusty tome.

There was nothing physically wrong with her, but she'd been ill for days, which meant that there was an external factor at work, and she could only think of a single cause. If this was Snoke's handiwork, the inevitable consequence of the bond he had created to force her and his apprentice together so that he could finally capture Luke, then she had to break that bond. Whatever hold the dark side had over her, it would take an effort from the light to smash it. She turned back to the Jedi texts with resignation, marking her place with a finger as she struggled to read.

Late into the night, with the ship cloaked in shadow, drifting through the dark recesses of space as the rest of the crew slept, her black clad visitor arrived, for the second time in a single day.

She was too tired to talk to him, simply glanced over in his direction once, before slumping back against the pillows. There were dark rings around his eyes, a slack cast to his mouth that spoke of deep weariness, his hair lank around his forehead. He nodded, acknowledging her, leaned his head back against whatever chair he was resting on, and closed his eyes.

The cold that wrapped her legs seemed to thaw slightly, a pleasant tingle replacing it as she stopped striving for consciousness and relaxed, somehow comforted by having him there. Her head fell forward onto the book as she slept. 

He only slept when she appeared. He'd collapsed in a chair, unable to make it over to his bed, finally letting go of the self-control that had kept him on his feet all day and then she was there, eyes heavy lidded, hair falling tousled about her face, her lower lip red and bruised as if she'd been biting it. She was in bed, on the verge of sleep, but he had no energy to speak to her, simply welcomed the absence of pain her presence brought him and fell asleep.

By morning the pain was worse, roaming freely around his body attacking muscles, nerves, sinews and bone at will, roaring its domination in his head. He clenched his fists and went on with his life.

Unfortunately, Hux had chosen that day to organise a rebellion. It started slow, just a trickle of higher up aides presenting him with orders for signature – the first to conquer a remote mining system and enslave the colonists, the second a demand to double the taxes on the planet of Drassia, which he'd only freed yesterday as a personal favour. He rejected them both and continued on to his next engagement, a troop inspection.

He was halfway down the third row, concentrating on putting one foot in front of the other and trying to look interested when there was a low sound of disapproval behind him. Someone was booing. He stopped short, flung a glance over his shoulder and the noise stopped immediately, so he turned on his heel and stomped back in the direction from where the noise had come, to try to find the culprit. Another boo sounded from four or five rows over, loud and harsh, and there was a movement in the ranks, a mutter at this unusual dissent. He strode towards the location of the second noise, but the journey wasn't complete when a third boo rolled through the air.

He might not be a general, but he knew he would have to stop this immediately before the situation became dangerous. He hastened back towards the stage, igniting his lightsaber which halted the chorus of jeers that had started towards the far side of the formation, and once in a position where he could see every row he stretched out a hand and began to read minds.

The first one was easy to spot, a stormtrooper with a brain full of fear, the image of a terrifying captain Kylo didn't recognise strong within it. He elevated the man into the air, held him there while he searched for more. The second trooper had been bribed, a third was involved because he was keen to impress the nameless captain, a fourth dreamed only of ripping Kylo limb from limb. He pinned all four in the air in full view of the rest of the troops, then extended a finger and the first zipped towards him.

'Who dares to disobey me?' he grated.

The man didn't grasp the gravity of the situation. 'No one, Supreme Leader.'

His throat was crushed in under a second and he fell to the ground, lifeless.

He turned to the second suspended soldier. 'Who dares to disobey me?'

This one begged, instead of giving up a name. His life was gone before the final 'e' of please.

The third mutineer was more sensible. 'Captain Casenby.'

The name didn't save him, both third and the fourth soldiers were dead before they hit the ground. There was complete silence in the ranks now, and the atmosphere emanating from the white helmets facing him now held a tang of fear.

He pointed at a random trooper on the end of a row. 'Fetch Captain Casenby.'

He made a mental note to deploy the Praetorian Guard – if the army was rebelling he would need more protection than a single lightsaber and a bad mood.

Casenby at least had the backbone to stand and face his Supreme Leader. He was a huge brute of a man, all chest and shoulders and Kylo knew just by looking at him that he wasn't bright enough to have masterminded even the first stage of a coup.

'I will have order,' he told the Captain in a mild tone, and then Kylo slashed out the other man's throat with this lightsaber.

He left the hall, the body still fountaining blood and headed to the workshop on Level 16 to commission a new helmet. Halfway there Rey appeared to him, naked.

I also write romance novels. The Car Crash Bride and The Postman's Daughter by Sally Anne Palmer are on Amazon.


	8. Chapter 8

The sudden alarm and the early morning sounds of the Falcon interrupted her slumber and she rolled over in bed, realising at once that only her chest and arms were obeying that command. She jerked upright, twitched off the bedcovers, rubbed at her legs, trying to stir some life back into them. She had to manoeuvre one after the other over the edge of the new mattress she'd had replaced yesterday, grabbed for the staff leaning against the wall and tried to stand.

She was aware of falling, and then her head banged against metal and everything else went dark.

She woke to Finn's voice calling her name. She was upright again, or nearly upright, sitting in a chair on the far side of her bedroom.

'Take it easy Rey,' he murmured, patting her hand. 'Don't try to stand.'

She tried anyway, got as far as lifting herself on her arms, but she simply couldn't feel her legs, couldn't get any sort of signal down to them whatsoever, couldn't so much as wriggle her toes against the blanket that was covering them. She sagged back into the seat, gasping.

'Why don't you tell us exactly what is going on, Rey?' Leia's voice came from behind where Finn was standing, and he shifted out of the way. 'Rose tells me you've been unwell for some time, but there isn't anything medically wrong with you.'

Rey tried to quell the fluttering twist of fear inside her. 'I haven't been right since a few days after Crait. I felt sick at first, and then every time I moved I got tired, and I fell over, and now I can't feel my legs. Do you think it's permanent?'

'What do you think is causing it?' The older woman was gentle, coaxing.

'Snoke.' She rushed on quickly to counter the flicker of doubt in the General's expression. 'The bond is getting stronger. I saw Ben twice yesterday, and he seems to be staying for longer each time. I'm sure he isn't doing it. He says Snoke created the bridge between our minds to make me come to him in person, and that since Snoke died before he could turn it off, the connection is still working. I think this is Snoke's way of forcing us together.'

Finn frowned. 'He's dead though, how can he be doing anything?'

'It's a dark side thing.'

Leia cut in. 'Did he tell you that? My son?'

Rey gave a half-hearted shrug. 'Yes. It isn't him. He doesn't want to see me any more than I want to see him.'

'Don't ever make the mistake of trusting him,' the General's tone was firm. 'I've never heard of the Force having this kind of an effect on anyone. Not remotely, and certainly not after the person supposedly manipulating it is dead. I think it's far more likely this is a slow acting poison of some kind, maybe something given to you while you were on board the First Order ship. We'll take you to a proper doctor, and have it checked out.'

Rey sighed. 'You'd better go. He's coming.'

Within seconds, his gloomy presence had materialised next to her, along with that same traitorous rush of warm pleasure her body always insisted on providing whenever he appeared. This time though, because she was concentrating so hard on not being able to feel her legs, she realised that the tingling feeling that started in her chest, ran all the way down her toes. She wriggled them beneath the blanket without any effort at all.

'At least you're not in bed this time,' he remarked, coolly observant. 'If not actually dressed.'

She ignored him, flicked away the blanket, exposed the useless flesh of her thighs to the air, then, one after the other, stretched both legs out in front of her.

'Can you put something on?' he complained, putting his back to her.

Rey put both hands on the arms of her chair, thrust upward, and rested some weight on her legs, taking a few tottering steps, which swiftly firmed up into several confident ones.

Leia shot her a hard stare. 'And you couldn't do that before he arrived?'

'No,' Rey confirmed. 'I couldn't move at all.'

'Who are you talking to?' asked Ben.

'Your mother.'

He sighed heavily. 'Perfect. Now my day is complete.'

'Are you having a bad day? I was having a terrible day before you arrived, but it's suddenly got better.'

'I'm not talking to you about my day, Rey. We're not friends. We don't do chit chat. This is just an inconvenient interlude before I kill you.'

'Fine,' she snapped. 'Then just stand there and be quiet.'

'Don't tell him anything,' his mother hissed. 'Don't tell him you couldn't walk, don't admit to any weakness.'

'Because he'll use it against me?'

'You can't trust him. Remember that. How do you know he isn't doing this himself?'

'He just told me I'm an inconvenient interlude and that he's going to kill me the next time he sees me.'

'That doesn't mean he isn't responsible for what's happening to you. Ask him if he knows how to break the bond.'

'Your mother wants to know if you know how to break the bond?' Rey parroted.

He threw her a contemptuous glance over his shoulder. 'You know I don't, or I wouldn't be standing here having this conversation. Ask her if she's proud of what she did to Chandrila.'

'Are you proud of what you did to Chandrila?' Rey asked, with an apologetic shrug.

Leia took half a step backwards and then her eyes narrowed. 'Ask him if he's proud of what he did to his father.'

'I'm not asking him that,' Rey objected.

'Ask him.'

'Ask me.'

She was surprised by how very similar the two of them sounded in their assumption of command.

'Are you proud of what you did to your father?' She winced as she said it.

His shoulders set, but he didn't turn. 'Ask her if she's proud of what she did to me.'

'What did she do to you?'

'No chit chat, Rey.'

'He says, are you proud of what you did to him?'

Leia folded her arms. 'Yes, of course I'm proud. I loved him. Despite everything he did, despite what he became, I loved him. I still do. Tell him that.'

Rey swallowed, then repeated, hiding a tiny quaver. 'She says, yes, she's proud – she loved you, despite everything you did, despite what you became. She still loves you.'

She waited for a reaction. There wasn't one.

He stood in silence with his face to the wall, and after what seemed a very long time, he disappeared.

Rey crashed back into the chair, Finn managing to half catch her on the way back down. Her legs had turned into useless meat appendages again, and she felt like crying with frustration. She hadn't asked for this, she'd done nothing wrong except maybe run to the rescue of a man who thought he didn't need saving. Now she was held prisoner in her own body, a far more effective gaol than any real cell Snoke could have devised.

The message was clear. If she wanted to walk again, she'd have to start spending a lot more time with Kylo Ren. Dejected, she put her head in her hands, but Finn pushed a button on the arm of the chair and it lifted off the floor, settling in to a low hover.

'We'll fix this,' he promised. 'We just need to find a place to start.'

She sniffed. 'The kyber crystal caves on Ilum. Let's start by finding out how to get there.'

'Anything you like.'

The chair was easy to control, a couple of buttons would do it, but she resented having to use it at all, anger building inside her against the dark side abuser who had put her there.

Finn used the computer banks to bring up a map of Ilum and some background information. 'Ilum is a small planet in the Unknown Regions, uninhabited, with an oxygen-based atmosphere but it's inhospitable, judged too cold and dark for colonisation with few natural resources. And the current intelligence we have on it is…' Here he paused, gave Leia a small, self-satisfied smile and hit a few more buttons. 'Provided by our new friends in the Skylon resistance. Ilum: there are four recently arrived Star Destroyers in orbit and the whole planet is crawling with troops.'

Rey sagged back in the chair, passed a hand over her eyes.

'What is the significance of Ilum?' Leia asked.

'Trust,' replied Rey. 'Ben told me he'd help me build a new lightsaber if I got a new crystal from Ilum, but it was obviously a trap. You're right. I can't trust him. I won't tell him there's anything wrong with me. We'll have to find the answer on our own.'

Or, he squinted, half naked. She was sitting in a chair, her lower half covered in a blanket and across her shoulders were two thin straps, mere wisps of fabric attached to a low cut, shiny dress. One of the straps had slipped downwards towards her elbow, revealing the top of a high, round breast. The nipple of her other breast was clearly visible through the gauzy material. He muttered something, and launched himself sideways into a cleaning cupboard so that he wouldn't be disturbed.

She slid off the blanket to reveal an expanse of long, shapely flesh, and his eyes travelled up over her toned calves, lingered on the pale, creamy skin of her thighs and stopped when they'd reached the apex of her legs, barely covered by the hem of her nightdress. He couldn't tell from this angle whether she was wearing underwear or not, but even the thought that she might not be had him spinning smartly away from her, so she couldn't see what was going on with the front of his trousers.

Although he didn't have feelings for her, and even though she'd rejected him in the worst way possible, his pants were tight with a speedy erection. He jerked down his tunic to try to hide it, but the action just pressed heavy fabric right against the head of his cock and the friction hardened it further. He felt a surge of anger and shame at the thought of being so out of control in front of her, but the anger took over as soon as she told him she was talking to his mother.

The old woman was obsessed with telling him she loved him, she'd made a point of saying it the last few times he'd seen her, as if it would make any difference to him now. She could talk as much as she liked, it was her actions that counted. I love you Ben, but I'm too busy to come to your school play. I love you Ben, but I can't come on holiday because I have to negotiate a peace treaty. I love you Ben, but I forgot your birthday because something else was more important. Never once had she been there when he needed her. She was available for the rest of the galaxy, she gave them all her time, but not him, never him.

'I love you,' was just a collection of empty words, he'd heard it so many times. Instead, he ignored her and any conversation in which she was involved, imagined that she'd never gone to Rey's bedroom.

Instead, he'd arrive to find Rey alone, and she'd notice too late that the flimsy strap of her nightdress had escaped her shoulder, exposing her left breast to his scrutiny. She'd blush, shy, and then bite her lower lip, wanting him, but not daring to admit it. He'd say nothing, simply watch her glorious indecision and eventually she'd reach out a trembling hand and remove the other strap, revealing her naked chest, her nipples dark brown stains on a canvas of purest white. He'd take a step closer, another, and she'd be forced to look up at him from her chair, but he wouldn't reach for those hardened mounds, aching for his touch. She'd nibble her lip until it was red and sore, and then the blanket would slip to the floor and her fingers would toy with the hem of her skirt, deciding, before she lifted it for him. She wasn't wearing underwear.

He'd go down on his knees between her legs and worship her with his mouth and her cries would be soft, wondering at how such a monster could be so tender, so gentle, so skilled with her. She'd wind her fingers into his hair, crush her cunt against his tongue and he'd stop for a second, look up, before he slid two fingers inside her and she'd arch her back and shudder with pleasure. He'd fuck her slowly with those fingers and when she begged him, he'd use his tongue again and she'd explode in his mouth. Then he'd…

The pain crashed back over him in a tidal wave of agony, washed every other thought from his mind and he staggered against the wall, the pressure in his groin easing immediately. Focus. Concentration. Turn it into strength.

Snoke's dead laughter echoed in his ears. He breathed deeply, feeling his mastery over himself return, accompanied by shame that lust had swamped him in the first place. That couldn't happen again. He changed course, decided to use his anger on Hux instead.

The General was in his office, and although he rose to his feet as Kylo arrived, he didn't bother to salute until he was reminded.

'The army is out of control,' Kylo announced. 'And you are to blame. I just had to decommission Captain Casenby and four units for insubordination.'

'Decommission?' Hux asked in a neutral tone.

'Permanently. I want a new training programme in place by tomorrow morning based on complete loyalty to the Supreme Leader.'

'Of course, Supreme Leader.' Hux smiled his patronising smile and resumed his seat behind his desk, picking up a pen and making a note. After a while he realised that Kylo hadn't left. 'Was there something else, Supreme Leader?'

Kylo wanted to wipe the smile off the General's face with the business end of his lightsaber. He bent forward. 'I know what game you're playing Hux, and you won't succeed. I'm your worst nightmare. Now get on with what I've asked you to do.'

He didn't leave the General's side for the rest of the day, sitting in on all his meetings, reading all the communications he wanted to send before they went out, prodding all Hux's contacts for signs of insurgency. Hux grew steadily more anxious as the time went on but he hid it well. When Kylo left him in his room late that night he felt he'd frightened the other man enough to enforce his loyalty, at least for the next few days.

The pain meant that he wasn't able to sleep so he spent the night ensuring that every decision the General made would have to come to him for ratification. He reviewed the electronic surveillance records for Hux's last few days on board but could find no contact with Captain Casenby, which just meant that the General was very good at covering his tracks. Kylo was tempted to kill his second in command but looking at the sheer volume of work that Hux got through in one day he wasn't sure he would have the time, or the boredom threshold to take it on.

He needed a replacement, but one who was unquestionably loyal to the role of Supreme Leader, someone who would die for him, if the occasion demanded.

In the early hours of the morning he checked in with the commander of the ambush force on Ilum, who confirmed that no unusual activity had been recorded in the last few days and the crystal caves were empty, apart from the hundreds of stormtroopers now stationed there. He could only think that Rey's delay in falling into his trap had something to do with his mother.

Anger sustained him during the rest of the night and in the morning, when Rey finally did appear, he was in the middle of another strategy meeting and couldn't speak to her anyway. Three sides of the conference room were now lined with Praetorian Guard and more were stationed outside the chamber. He was leaving nothing to chance.

He pointed at the minion who was looking most nervous, shifting in his chair in an irritating manner. 'Why have my orders on the slave colony on Merades not been followed?'

The man licked his lips. 'It has proven very difficult to find an alternative to using slaves, Supreme Leader. If the slaves leave then the production facility will come to a halt.'

'That's an excuse, not an answer. Do you dare disobey your Supreme Leader?'

He choked the man to death without regret, in the hope that a short murder first thing on the agenda would make the rest of the meeting go more smoothly.

After the body was tidied away, the same adjutant who had approached him yesterday about conquering the mining planet had another try and was rejected, getting a near death experience for his pains.

Hux stepped in. 'I believe the Supreme Leader has got out of bed on the wrong side this morning. Perhaps I can provide what he needs.'

The General proceeded to give a comprehensive run down of progress on all the key items on Kylo's list, which he must have been up most of the night preparing, and much as he wanted to deny it, Kylo felt a grudging respect for the man. Hux would not have survived so long under Snoke had he not been the best candidate for the job.

'Perhaps in future, the Supreme Leader could direct his questions to me, rather than brutalising my staff.'

Kylo could even see why Hux's lackeys respected him, but it didn't matter. 'Dangerous territory Hux. I won't warn you again.'

He ended the meeting, sat there in silence for a while with only the Praetorian Guard for company, practising control. Behind him he could hear Rey's heavy breathing and grunts of effort, but he refused to turn around, or even think about what she was doing. When the splash of water running caught his ears and he realised she must be removing her clothes, he still didn't look round, and the contents of his underwear remained still and quiet.

With that reassurance, he got on with writing another set piece speech, this one designed to both terrify the troops, and secure their loyalty to him over Hux.

But as he walked to the podium less than an hour later he could tell that something was wrong. Maybe it was the lack of sleep, or maybe he'd had to exert so much self-control over the last few days that his body couldn't take the strain, or maybe it was something more sinister – all he knew was that as he stood there clutching the lectern and spoke the opening lines of his speech the edges of his vision went dark. He felt his control cracking, the pain flooding back through holes in the dam, an enormous surge of it, too powerful to manage. His jaw clenched with agony, tremors rippled through his shoulders, his arms, spread down into his thighs and made them shake.

He tried, but it was too much – all he could do was concentrate on not screaming as he fell to the floor.


	9. Chapter 9

The next morning her hands were numb. It was a struggle to haul herself out of bed and into the hover chair, and the controls were difficult to operate with stiffened fingers. She had lost the dexterity to arrange her own hair, couldn't hold cutlery and when she tried to grasp her staff, it slipped out of her hands. She stifled a sob, threw herself into further examination of the Jedi text books to while away the journey to Rhinnal.

Rhinnal always been loyal to the Republic, Leia had said, and their renown in medical practice was unsurpassed; although the Jedi chapter house on the planet had long been obsolete, the General had hoped that someone there might be able to help. Several hours later, lying flat out on a table under bright lights being poked and probed by various uniformed physicians, Rey wasn't convinced. The reflexes in her legs had been tested, synapses and nervous system put through their paces, the neural pathways in her brain had been mapped and explored and still the lead physician scratched his head.

'There is nothing wrong with you.' He explained, when she was dressed again and back in the hover chair, waiting patiently in the consulting room for an answer she wasn't sure would be forthcoming. 'You should be able to get up and walk.' He looked at her expectantly.

She shook her head. 'I can't. And it's becoming more difficult to move my hands with every passing minute. What can I do?'

'It must be psychosomatic then. That's the only explanation.'

'Let's just imagine that it isn't. Let's imagine that over the last two weeks I've become paralysed, to the extent that I'm confined to a chair. How much longer do I have before the paralysis becomes total? How long before I can no longer breathe? How long before I die?'

The doctor shook his head, as if to clear years of study and practical experience. 'Assuming that this is a psychological illness, as yet undiagnosed, then at that rate of progression I'd give you less than a week. Your extremities will shut down first as brain function recedes, until eventually only your core autonomous processes are left, respiration, circulation, but you won't be able to speak or move. If the paralysis becomes complete and impacts your lungs, it's over. Apologies for the melodrama. I seem to be without a rational explanation.'

'So am I,' whispered Rey.

The Force bond was a death sentence. Unless she could find a way to stop it, in less than a week she'd have breathed her last. Or she could give in and surrender to Ben. She thought she'd probably rather die than have to spend the rest of her life in close proximity to him. In fact, if she did surrender to him in her current vulnerable, defenceless state, she had no doubt he'd dispatch her on the spot. He'd told her his intentions enough times.

The minute that the bond activated halfway through the afternoon Rey was out of her chair, crushing the incongruous feeling of happiness that the sight of a broad, tunic covered back brought her as relief that she could finally get up. He appeared across the other side of the room, sitting in a chair, and in a very bad mood. He didn't bother to look round as she snatched up her staff, whirling into a practice session, despite the confined space, desperate not to lose a minute of the time she could spend on her feet. She pushed herself through more and more demanding routines, until she was breathing hard, but he ignored her efforts, continuing to harangue subordinates.

'Why have my orders on the slave colony on Merades not been followed?'

'That's an excuse not an answer. Do you dare disobey your Supreme Leader?'

'Someone clear this mess away. Next?'

He cocked his head, listening. 'That was the same strategy you outlined yesterday. I said no then, and my answer is still no. That system is not strategically important, has no resources we need and isn't worth the effort of conquering. Find a new target.'

There was a much longer silence. 'Dangerous territory Hux. I won't warn you again.'

She tuned him out eventually, stopping only when she was utterly spent, and then she jumped in the fresher and sluiced off the sweat, manging to tie up her hair before he disappeared, and the brief intermission of physical freedom was over.

She flopped back onto the bed, cursing.

Her rage at the situation she found herself in left a sour taste in her mouth. It was a stark choice. Die slowly in bed or go down fighting. She couldn't win against the entire First Order and Ben had already proven with Luke that he preferred to shoot first and duel later. If she succumbed to what the Force bond was demanding that she do, and go to him, she'd be just as dead as if she stayed in bed.

But by the next morning her hands would no longer obey her commands and she couldn't get up on her own. Rose came to her aid, taking care of dressing, and washing and then set her up with a voice operated screen so that she could at least keep herself entertained. Rey switched on Holonet, skimming past the usual images of the Supreme Leader declaiming grandly at troop inspections, ordering war fleets and weapons, marching up and down in his swirling cloak.

The alternative broadcasters told a different story. _Kylo Ren in collapse drama_ was the headline on one. _Supreme Leader takes supreme tumble_ mocked another. _Pyl-o-Ren_ laughed a third. The same story was top billing on almost every channel, and all the stories had basically the same message. There was a clip of Ben in the middle of a speech, his face even more pale than usual against the black pall of his hair. Halfway through the clip he began to sway, his gaze lost focus, his speech slurred and slowed, his shoulders dropped, and he made an effort to step away from the podium, before falling heavily to the floor, his body twitching in a convulsive manner.

A bevy of unformed acolytes rushed from the wings, a blonde man with a contemptuous expression stepped out onto the stage rather more slowly, nudged the fallen Supreme Leader with a foot, then took his place at the lectern and continued with the pre-written proclamation. Ben was stretchered off, obvious shudders still wracking his limbs.

Rey watched this from every angle she could find, while a dim suspicion grew at the back of her mind, and she flicked back to Holonet, looking rather more carefully at the publicity photos and press opportunities the First Order hierarchy had been indulging in over the last two weeks. Now she examined the pictures more carefully, the signs were obvious. In all of the older appearances he looked exactly as she remembered, murderous, scarred, but healthy. Lately, dark circles ringed his eyes, contrasting with the porcelain pallor of his skin and in some pictures, he was sweating. His fists were nearly always clenched, wherever he was, and he seemed to be moving with more care than he'd displayed before all this had properly started, back on Crait.

She called Finn in for his opinion, spooling through the footage, frame by frame.

At length he said, 'I agree, I think. It looks like there's something wrong with him, but I don't think it's the same as what's happening to you. It could be he's just very stressed about ruling the galaxy. It's a big job. Or maybe he's having an attack of conscience and he's realised what a mistake he's made in killing Snoke.'

'No.' Rey shook her heard slowly, grateful that it would still move. 'I think he's ill and he's trying to control it. He doesn't have anyone to help him like I do.'

Finn gave her a questioning look, and she dashed the odd twinge of pity from her heart. 'I'll ask him when I see him. If he's still alive.'

It was probably down to Snoke that he was still alive. The distrust, suspicion and fear that had been fostered through his training meant that he was out cold for less than thirty minutes after his collapse, regaining consciousness when someone shoved a needle in his arm. The jump into fight mode was automatic and he flailed around blindly with the Force, while he struggled to keep his eyes open. Medical professionals were scythed into gibbering heaps on the floor, uniformed officers jumped backwards and he reached for the line attached to his arm, yanked it out and threw out a hand for his lightsaber.

Dimly, he heard someone yell, 'Go.' The tramp of running feet filled the small room and before he could quite focus, it was empty. Clumsy and awkward he flung heavy looking equipment against the single door with his mind, ensuring that no one could get back in and then pulled himself off the hovering stretcher on which he lay, tumbling to the floor in a pile of unco-ordinated limbs. He was in a medical bay, probably the closest one to the hangar where he'd been speaking, and he hauled himself painfully onto the nearest cot, pushing a button to activate the equipment.

The last thing he needed was living, breathing medical intervention – the automated kind was far safer, and he'd grown up around this sort of kit, could operate it with his eyes closed, which was lucky, since he was barely clinging to awareness. He stabbed a button to start a diagnosis scan, found his mind drifting while he waited for the results.

Learning to fight had only been part of his training, his master's lessons had also focused on fighting under challenging circumstances – in the dark, for example, under extremes of heat and cold, and most entertainingly, when physically impaired. He could fight with one hand literally tied behind his back. He'd been attacked in his sleep enough times that some part of him was now permanently on guard and for a particularly fun few months, Snoke had dosed him up with one common toxin after another so that he'd get used to recognising their effects. The antidote was only administered after he'd fought off enough opposition. There was probably some kind of rational logic in that element of the programme, but mostly Kylo thought Snoke just enjoyed seeing him suffer.

Only once had he been completely wiped out by a poison, and he'd woken in his bed, unable to remember what had happened to him, dressed only in sleeping pants, with Snoke sitting on top of the covers, stroking his hair. The memory still made his skin crawl. He had no idea if anything inappropriate had happened, but the suggestion that it might had ensured that no non medicinal contaminant had ever entered his body since – no stimulant, no sedative, no mind-altering chemical of any kind, nothing that might make him vulnerable in front of any living thing. Before that day he'd stayed periodically in dormitories, spent the odd occasion in his youth training late into the evening with the Knights of Ren, but after that he slept alone, trusted no one enough to fall asleep in front of them, kept his bedroom door locked at all times.

The scanner beeped its completion, and then read out the results. There was a minute amount of a slow acting poison in his bloodstream, not enough to kill him, but enough to impair his control and let the pain of the bond back in. He pushed buttons, then lay back as the antidote flushed his system, followed by an analgesic that left his mind clear while his body recovered.

Someone had tried to kill him and failed. Either the dosage had been incorrectly calculated, or it had been administered badly – he couldn't think of an obvious way that he might have come into contact with it, but just to be on the safe side he had his personal chef executed and resolved to eat in the mess hall from now on.

He lay there for a while, letting the medicine do its work and when the machine beeped again to indicate the cycle was complete he attempted to sit up. The pain came back with such punishing force that he howled. Every inch of his skin felt like it was burning, every cell in his body cried out with a conflagration of agony, each breath was a fiery torment. He gasped in another lungful of air to fuel the shout that was his only outlet for the hurt consuming him, and was aware in the small space of consciousness that was left of his thinking mind, that someone was knocking at the door.

'Are you alright in there, Supreme Leader?' General Hux asked politely.

Kylo stabbed at buttons randomly, managed to switch the painkillers back on and the minute the pain dulled enough to let him move his hand he shattered all the surveillance equipment in the room with the Force and smashed the lights. Then he lay there in the dark, struggling with the pounding misery rushing through his veins, dulled but not eliminated. He tried again, dialled down the opioid concentration but the balance was off – he could blunt the pain, but not enough to enable him to sit up without screaming, any movement he made an exquisite torture. Even his prodigious self-control was no longer strong enough to mask the damage that the Force bond was doing to his nerve endings, he couldn't manage it any more.

The knock at the door came again. 'Are you alright in there, Supreme Leader?'

Lying in the darkness, unable to move, Kylo knew that it was all over. Hux wanted him dead, and it wouldn't take the General long to lose patience and decide to break down the door of the medical bay. After that it was only a matter of time before he deduced that Kylo wasn't able to get up, disconnected the equipment and was able to watch his commander in chief rolling around the floor incapacitated by agony.

'I'm fine,' he shouted back, as loudly as possible. 'But I'm contagious. Don't come in.'

That excuse wasn't going to hold Hux for long. Kylo needed a cure, and he needed it now. Using voice commands he called the commander of the Ilum fleet to check on progress.

'Still no sign,' the Captain's voice came back. 'How much longer would you like us to wait for the Jedi, Supreme Leader?'

'Abandon the mission,' Kylo ordered, after a moment's thought. 'Concentrate your efforts on finding the Resistance pilot Poe Dameron.'

The man responded immediately. 'That target has already been acquired, Supreme Leader. The message has just gone out over the internal comms channel. Poe Dameron has been engaged and should be eliminated in the next few minutes, as per your orders.'

'My orders have changed,' Kylo yelped in alarm. 'Captain – your new instructions are to capture that Resistance fighter instead, and bring him to me for interrogation. I want the location of the Jedi, and I want it now. Bring that man to my ship or I'll have your head.'

He needed Rey. Urgently, and perhaps more than he'd ever needed anyone in his life.

There was another tap on the door. 'Very well, Supreme Leader,' said Hux. 'I'll wait.'

Kylo lay and waited too. Four hours stretched into five, then six, before the Ilum captain reported back over the speaker.

'Good news, Supreme Leader,' he said, and Kylo's heart leaped. 'Dameron has been picked up and I have transferred him to your ship. Will you be coming down to supervise the interrogation?'

'Not this time.' Very little would have given Kylo more pleasure, except the sudden appearance of Rey, but he would have to sit this one out. He thumbed the comm link. 'General Hux. We have apprehended one of the Resistance leaders and he is currently awaiting interrogation. Kindly ensure he reveals the location of the rest of the Resistance as quickly as possible. Don't let him die until he has told you everything he knows.' He flipped the switch again, 'Captain. You will have the location of the last remaining rebel ship as soon as the interrogation is complete. Capture the Jedi, bring her to me and you can call yourself Admiral.'

The scratching of his eyeballs warned Kylo to disconnect the communications device moments before Rey appeared, and, although the pain dissolved immediately, he knew he couldn't do anything to risk alerting her to the fact that she was about to be located, and all her allies killed. He would have to be as unthreatening as possible, electing to lie still and pretend to sleep.

She had to wait nearly the entire day before he finally appeared, prostrate and barely breathing, wearing a pale grey robe that left his arms and legs bare. She bounced off the bed, approached him, lying in mid air on the other side of the room. He kept his eyes closed.

'Are you ill?'' she asked, without preamble. 'I've seen the footage of you falling on stage.'

There was a heavy sigh. 'Everyone is so concerned with my well-being. I'm fine. I just need to sleep.'

Almost immediately his breathing deepened and slowed, and his body spread over the surface on which he was lying as his muscles relaxed. She came right up close and examined him carefully, not touching, but scanning the exposed flesh of his arms for signs of injury or damage. There was strength in those arms, strength born of long hours of exercise and struggle, and the skin was marked with healed cuts and scrapes, the occasional red leer of fresh damage. There were a couple of puncture marks, some bruising in the crook of an elbow, which she thought probably meant medical treatment. He was covered to just above the knee, and since it was obvious he wasn't wearing anything underneath she passed downwards quickly, checking his legs for signs of muscle wastage, or contact from any kind of concealed apparatus he might be using to walk, but found none.

If there was anything the matter with him - standing at his feet and considering the bulging calves, the powerful thighs revealed under the thin cotton garment - it wasn't affecting his legs. She turned her attention to his chest, shoulders, neck, listening to the smooth, unhurried breathing, the regular heartbeat, confirming from the smell that drifted off his clothes, so different to his usual complex citrus scent, that he was in a sickbay somewhere, the chemicals obvious at close range. She hadn't even realised that she knew what he smelt like when he wasn't ill and filed away that snippet of information for future thought.

He hadn't shaved, his hair hadn't been recently washed, and even in sleep that lack of attention, the absence of care his unkempt appearance spoke of, awoke the same inappropriate pity inside her again.

'What are you doing?' he murmured, and she jumped, straightening.

'Looking for a weakness.'

'Did you find one?'

She ran her eyes across him again, considering. 'No.'

'Then leave me alone.'

She retreated to the other side of the room but continued to watch. There was something wrong with him, the photographic evidence told her that, but it didn't seem to be damaging his body. She glanced down at her own, perfectly healthy limbs, fully functional and active in his presence and gritted her teeth. There was nothing wrong with her either, and yet she was unable to walk for great chunks of her day.

'What was Snoke like?' she asked abruptly, unsure if he was still able to hear.

The reply, when it came, was almost a whisper. 'Single minded.'

'What was he like when you didn't do what he wanted you to?'

The same breathy whisper in response. 'Dangerous.'

She took a deep breath. 'I'm having trouble with my legs.' She tried to make it sound temporary, easily resolvable, but couldn't tell if he was convinced since he didn't move. 'It's hard to walk sometimes, when you aren't around. Are you having anything similar?'

'Nothing I can't handle.'

There was a thread of anger behind his words that made her sure he wasn't as unconcerned as he sounded. 'Can you be quiet now, I need to sleep.'

'Would you tell me if there was anything wrong with you?'

'Never admit weakness to an enemy. I'm sure my mother has taught you that.'

She worked through the next several hours of exercise to the accompaniment of gentle snores.

The ruse worked, and she seemed to think he didn't notice that she spent a significant period of time ogling his half covered body. When she'd been only partially clothed he'd had the good grace to turn around, but she didn't extend him the same courtesy – in fact, she stared, and stared, and stared, until he became uncomfortable, aware for the first time that someone had stripped him of his underwear while he'd been unconscious. She even went so far as to stand at his feet and look up his robe and he had to remind himself to breathe deeply and evenly, in order to retain control, and only managed to distract her by feigning falling asleep.

He pretended to snore.

He'd catch her very soon now. Her friend would be tortured into revealing her location and then she would be his prisoner, and he could punish her in any way he wanted. His mouth went dry at the thought.


	10. Chapter 10

Rey woke suddenly the next morning, conscious of impending danger, with a flashing ripple of adrenalin washing through her body. Her eyes blinked open and she realised she'd nodded off while propped up against the pillows, reading one of the heavier Jedi texts. She couldn't move. She had slipped downwards on the bed; the text book was now jammed against her throat and she couldn't raise her head or lift her chest to push it off. The edge of the book was pressing against her windpipe, restricting her breathing and the air rattled in her chest as she struggled to inhale enough oxygen to keep her heart beating. She attempted to inflate her chest enough to shift the weight of the book, but it was wedged into the mattress and it was going nowhere. She took a few, shallower breaths, tried with all her might to move any muscle in her body, anything at all, ending up blinking in frustration, with tears dripping unchecked from her eyes.

It was at that point she realised she was going to die.

Her body was still slipping down the bed, sliding over the pillows in infinitesimal stages, pressing her throat closer and closer against the book. She was going to be choked to death by the Jedi, who would succeed in killing her where the Sith had failed.

She attempted to call out in her mind for Leia, for Luke, for anyone who might be listening, but she had no idea what she was doing and she soon gave up. She reached out for Ben, not caring about where help came from, as long as it came, but the bond had never opened at any convenient time and he didn't appear. She was going to die here, alone in her bed, unable to do anything to prevent it. She had never been more terrified in her life.

Then the door opened, and the General's worried face appeared, a face that became even more worried as she grasped what was happening. The book was yanked away from underneath Rey's chin and she sucked in a cool, lifegiving breath as Leia lifted her upright and pushed her back against the pillows.

'This can't go on, Rey,' she said firmly.

Rey attempted to open her mouth, but it wouldn't move, and she realised with a sickening punch to the stomach that she'd lost her ability to speak. Leia waited for a few moments before she grasped the problem with a deep frown. 'Blink twice for yes, once for no. Do you understand?'

Rey blinked twice.

'I've spoken to the doctors you saw, and they can't help. Luke is gone, and there are no other Jedi around to ask. I take it you've found nothing in those books my brother gave you?'

Rey blinked once.

'Then I think you should go to Ben.' She sat on the end of the bed, took Rey's hand in hers. 'I don't suggest that lightly. I think there's a significant risk involved. You'll be taken prisoner by the First Order. You may be tortured. You may even be killed. My guess is he'll keep you alive while he tries to turn you to the dark side, or interrogates you for information, which will give you a chance to break the connection between you and escape, but I may be wrong. He may shoot first and ask questions later. But you have a choice between taking that risk and staying here with us, where you will most certainly die, flat on your back, here in bed. It's up to you. I will respect your decision either way.'

Rey thought about it for a second, but the terror was still sloshing around her veins and her desire to escape the slow, helpless death of which she'd just had a taste overrode any other fears.

'Do you want to stay with the Resistance?' asked the General.

Rey blinked once.

'Do you want me to contact the First Order?'

She blinked twice.

Leia reached out for a pad immediately, typing in a complex pattern without a pause. 'So many years and I still remember,' she mused, before glancing over with an explanation. 'I'm calling Ben's personal code with mine, if he doesn't answer we'll use the formal route.'

There was silence on the line for some time, and then the click of connection although there was no picture, just a black screen.

Leia said confidently into the quiet. 'Rey is dying, Ben. She needs you.'

The delay was long enough that Rey thought he wasn't going to answer but finally his voice grated, hostile and harsh, 'I don't care.'

Leia tutted. 'Never let your feelings cloud your judgement. I taught you better than that. Rey is a tactical asset.'

'She isn't an asset to me.' His voice was low, hoarse almost, as if he was dragging the words out over knife blades, ripping them on the way.

'She's a member of the Resistance leadership. She's privy to all our secrets.'

'The Resistance are an irrelevance to me.' The effort behind his words was palpable.

'She would turn to the dark side if she were approached in the right way. She has almost no defence against it, you must have felt that.' Without looking, the older woman reached behind her and gripped Rey's hand, giving the lie to her words.

'She will not turn.' His voice was starting to hurt Rey's ears, such was the torment in it.

'She needs a teacher.'

'I don't want her.'

If she could have spoken Rey would have told him just how mutual that feeling was, but Leia had other ideas.

'Very well, then she will die. Take care.' Rey couldn't tell if the last words were a request or a threat.

The General reached out to disconnect the call, but before it was ended he blurted, 'I want the books. I'll take the girl if I must, but I want the Jedi books. And the lightsaber, I want that too.'

Rey blinked once for no, but Leia wasn't listening. 'Very well. I will leave them all in a suitable location and send you the co-ordinates.'

She cut the connection and then faced Rey, grinning. 'He never was any good at negotiation. If he really didn't want you he'd have walked away, not come back for a better deal. Let's pack, shall we?'

Watching the older woman poke around in her belongings selecting what to take and what to leave without consultation, Rey felt a little uneasy. Leia seemed to be enjoying this too much, smiling as she prepared to send Rey off to almost certain death.

Rose and Finn were called and together, the two of them manhandled Rey into the hover chair, which had been fitted with a harness to keep her upright. Before Rey was ready the Falcon had landed on a sparsely forested moon, and she was deposited on a track in the middle of a field, surrounded by scrubby bush, saying goodbye to the only family she could remember. Finn gave her a hug, said something indistinct into her shoulder and then moved away, wiping his eyes. Rose patted her hand and wished her luck.

Leia grasped her shoulders, looked deep into her eyes. 'Don't trust him,' she said. 'Love him if you must, but don't trust him.'

The ship took off and they were gone, leaving Rey alone, incapacitated, at the mercy of the elements, or the First Order, whichever should attack her first. Her heart, still unconstrained by the paralysis that had crippled the rest of her body raced away in her chest. Her breathing was unsteady, and she tried to slow it down, attempting to master the fear that swirled through her guts. She was dependent on a man who had said he didn't want her and had threatened her life on more than one occasion; whatever he chose to do to her, she wouldn't be able to stop him.

The shrill scream of a ship entering the atmosphere and decelerating far too fast split the wasteland morning, but it landed behind her, and Rey couldn't turn her head to see. She waited for the paralysis to lift, readied herself to fight with feet and hands, elbows, teeth and whatever else might be available as the regular tramp of feet got closer and then stopped, just out of her eyeline.

There was a long silence, then the unmistakeable click of a trigger and the world went black.

Flat on his back in sickbay, he felt her presence the minute her transport touched down in the hangar. The smile which had stretched his cheeks since he'd cut the call with his mother relaxed from a rictus grin into something more genuine. He'd played the old woman beautifully – Hux had not yet managed to break Poe Dameron, but in the end his capitulation had been unnecessary, because Leia had called him up out of nowhere and offered him the one thing he wanted on a plate. Or in a hover chair, if the reports from his shiny new Admiral were to be believed. He'd even got the books and the lightsaber, and all the while his mother had thought she was manipulating him.

He was off the bed and out of the door as quickly as his new, fully operational, pain free body would move, striding down the corridor to his bedroom flanked by the Praetorian Guard, unconcerned by his sorry state of dress. He was back, and now things were going to change. He cleaned himself up in the fresher, donned a new set of clothes and headed for the interrogation suite.

He joined Hux, who was impassively staring through a two-way screen which blocked out the noise of Dameron's screams. The man's resistance really was quite impressive and Kylo could tell from the records shown down the right-hand side of the display that Hux had tried nearly all of the most common torture techniques. It was extracted fingernails and the iron maiden up next – Hux was very conservative about this sort of thing.

Kylo folded his arms, still finding it impossible to wipe the smirk off his face. 'Would you like me to show you how it's done?' he asked kindly.

Hux shrugged. 'Feeling better, Supreme Leader?'

'I'm fighting fit, General.' He patted Hux on the shoulder because he simply couldn't resist it.

Dameron straightened the minute Kylo entered the room, recovering enough composure to spit on the floor. 'I'll never tell you where Rey is,' he hissed. 'Torture me all you want, I won't tell you.'

Kylo heard himself humming as he prepared to pulverise Dameron's mind. 'I know exactly where she is,' he replied. 'Two cells down on the right. Now I want the rest of the Resistance.' He held out a hand. 'Where are the rebels right now?'

Dameron didn't stand a chance and he knew it, but he kept talking anyway. 'I know what you're after and you're sick. She doesn't want you, she turned you down. You can't kidnap and torture her into loving you. Take no for an answer.'

Kylo pursed his lips, digging for around for a little more detail. 'You misunderstand. I'm not going to torture her. I'm just going to kill her.' He turned back to Hux, still listening through the screen. 'The rebels are on Chandrila.'

Hux's voice crackled through the speaker. 'Again? Are you sure?'

Kylo shrugged. 'They think that since we've searched there already we won't bother going back. Send someone to Chandrila to wipe them out, General.'

'And him?' Hux asked.

Kylo considered the man sagging in the interrogation chair. 'He was supposed to find a new base for the Resistance, and he failed. He was supposed to bring back new ships and weapons and he couldn't do that either. He's no use to anyone. Kill him.'

Dameron stilled, a strange kind of bravery squaring his chin, and his eyes flashed defiance. 'If you kill me, she'll never forgive you.'

Kylo nodded, as if convinced. 'You have a point. I should keep you alive. She likes you. I might be able to use you against her. What do you think she'll do for me if I promise to stop you screaming? Kneel down? Open her mouth? Swallow?'

Dameron made a commendable effort to break his bonds, but Kylo leaned very close and whispered directly into his ear so no one else could hear. 'You shouldn't have kissed her.' He turned on his heel.

'You're a monster,' Dameron yelled at him.

He dismissed that with a wave. 'I know.'

Torture didn't have to be physical, Kylo thought, breezing past Hux and heading into the corridor. That was where so many people got it wrong. For a man like Dameron, with a certain tolerance for physical torment, a far more effective strategy was to let him believe that one of his friends would be punished in his place. Kylo was willing to bet that if left alone for a few days, the next time the Resistance fighter saw anyone approaching him threatening pain he'd be so keen to save Rey from being hurt in his stead that he'd spill his guts. There was nothing that Kylo wanted from him, but it gave him a warm feeling of satisfaction to know he'd broken the other man, not for any reason, but just because he could. That thought put a slight downer on his mood – he sounded just like Snoke.

Two cells down on the right he forgot all about his old master, and Hux, Dameron and the Resistance, the First Order and the Sith because there was Rey, in the same room as him for the first time since they'd fought side by side and he'd asked her to share his life.

She was snoring.

She'd been strapped into a hover chair, a neck brace holding her head upright and a patch on her arm feeding the sedatives which were keeping her unconscious into her bloodstream. Seeing her made him giddy, and he could already taste the sweet pleasure of the revenge he was going to take on his tongue – she would regret the day she'd turned him down.

A string of drool stretched down her chin, splashes marking her top. Briefly, he considered keeping her in this state, taking time out of every day to come down here and stare at her drugged vulnerability, but he knew that was only a hopeless dream. If the Force bond was going to go the way he was expecting, it would become quite inconvenient to drag around an unconscious woman in a chair – far better that she was docile and compliant and walking by herself.

She was in love with him, and he had some very detailed plans about how exactly to use that against her.

As a first step, she was going to have to come out of that chair, and deciding against letting anyone else touch her, he released the straps around her neck, her waist and the one stretching just above her breasts that held her back rigid. She sagged forward and he caught her, cradling her limp body against his chest as he laid her out on the low platform that was the only furniture in the room. There was hair all over her face and he smoothed it away gently, brushing her cheek in the process.

Her eyes fluttered open at his touch, warm, deep brown eyes that smiled a welcome at him. Her lips formed a single word - 'Kylo' - and her hand lifted, covering his and pressing his palm to her cheek.

'I love you,' she murmured, her voice a soft whisper and the sudden sound of his heartbeat thudding in his ears drowned it out. The expression in her eyes changed, she caught her lower lip between her teeth, still staring up at him. Her fingers latched around his hand and, with a gentle pressure, she pulled it down, sliding his palm over her chin, running it over the smooth column of her throat, over her shoulder, the bump of her collarbone, pausing there for a second and she said, 'Touch me, Kylo.'

Her hand tugged his downwards until he had her breast in his fingers and he fell forward onto his knees with a thump, losing himself in her eyes as his grasp tightened on the soft mound beneath the fabric of her top. He stopped breathing, heard the whimper she made when he thumbed her nipple, taut and proud. His body was hot for her, his trousers too tight around the swelling flesh.

She broke his gaze and her free hand snaked out, fingertips searching for the sudden bulge of his erection. When she said, 'Touch me, Kylo,' again, her voice was low and husky, and the pull of her fingers dragging his hand over her stomach was more insistent.

He couldn't stop watching it, the joined jumble of hands that pressed between her legs and began to rock. She was warm down there, warm and damp and her palm pushed his fingers tight against her cunt and she wriggled, crying out with the friction. He could feel himself hard and he thrust his groin against the press of her free hand, reached down to open his fly.

Then stopped, smacked himself in the middle of his forehead with one hand and jerked away.

Rey snored on, regardless, eyes closed, unconscious of the man lusting over her defenceless form. Kylo cursed Snoke, and the bond, and himself and most of all Rey, for being drugged and having such an effect on him that he was fantasising about her being awake. He was going to have to control this.

The attraction he felt was Snoke's doing – left alone he had no residual feelings for her whatsoever, but the minute he got too close his body developed a will of its own. He stood, breathed deeply a few times, let the tension in his loins fade, the heat of his face dissipate and then he went back outside and visited the guard station at the entrance to the prison block.

'I want her in a cage,' he demanded. 'The new prisoner - she needs to be in a cage. With bars. And no door. No one goes in or out. No one touches her. She only speaks to me. See to it.'

The lieutenant in charge looked at him for a little too long. 'Bars sir? I'm not sure we have any bars.'

'Then go to Level 16 and get someone to make you a proper prison.'

He stomped away, cursing the incompetence of his staff. If she was behind bars she wouldn't be close enough to reach him, and he wouldn't be tempted to touch her. For now, anyway. He'd worry about tomorrow when it came.


	11. Chapter 11

She woke to a throbbing headache, rolled onto her front and threw an arm over her eyes to block out the brilliant light slicing through her eyelids. She was lying full length on something hard in a room that was a little too warm for comfort, surrounded by the kind of dry, stale air that only came from too much recycling. It took several deep inhalations before her mind clicked back into focus and she remembered where she was. She sat up quickly, scanning the room for immediate threats, then realised she was sitting up and bit back a sob of relief. She stretched out her hand in front of her, curled her fingers into a fist and then spread them wide.

She wasn't dead, despite the fact that someone had decided to shoot first and ask questions later. In fact, she was …. in prison. There were bars on every side. She was housed in a white cage, itself contained in a white walled room.

The floor was smooth, the ceiling equally so, and the cage had no discernible door although someone must have carried her in while she'd been unconscious. It was big enough for her to pace from side to side and she'd been left on the single piece of furniture – a long, low moulded bench that would serve as a bed. The rest of the room was empty, apart from the blank eyed security equipment in the ceiling.

She swung her legs onto the floor, tested them hesitantly, then took a few tentative steps. Only when she was sure she was ready did she turn and face the man waiting patiently on the other side of the bars.

He was perfect. Handsome. Immaculately presented, his uniform creased in all the right places and without a wrinkle in the others. Hs blonde hair was neatly cut, slicked back from his face, which was clean shaven, baby smooth, as if he'd never suffered a moment's concern in his life. His mouth twisted in an approximation of a smile.

'Good afternoon,' he said. 'Welcome to the First Order.'

She sauntered towards him, determined to start this as she meant to carry on, unbroken, unbowed. 'Did Ben send you?'

The man mouthed the 'Ben' silently. 'You do know it is an offence in the First Order to mention his real name?'

Rey tested the bars. 'Is that why I'm in prison?'

'No. You're in prison because you murdered Supreme Leader Snoke.'

His expression made her uncomfortable. He gazed at her as if she were a tasty morsel and he hadn't eaten for hours. She waved a hand, took care to enunciate clearly. 'Ben Solo murdered Snoke.'

The same tortured smile split the man's face. 'I knew it. He's a traitor. He should never have assumed command.'

'Because he murdered his master? From what I hear, that's quite normal for the Sith. It's how they show affection. Where is he anyway? I know he's close by.'

The man's smile was becoming concerning.

'The Supreme Leader has been somewhat…Let's say under the weather recently. But since the Resistance surrendered you he seems to have had a miraculous recovery. He's engaged elsewhere but I wanted to welcome you personally. I think you may find we have much in common.'

Rey put her face between the bars. 'Can you let me out then?'

He clicked his heels together. 'Later.'

She hoped she'd find nothing in common with him at all.

As soon as he'd left the cell and she was sure he was on his way back to whatever it was he did in such a smarmy fashion, she escaped. It was simple. She raised a hand, concentrated hard, and bent the bars out of shape enough to slip through the hole and walked out. There were stormtroopers stationed directly outside her prison, but she had now spent some time studying the Jedi textbooks and was able to redirect their attention adroitly enough that only one of them saw her. That one happened to be of a similar height and build and happily donated his uniform before ending up unconscious in her cell, enabling her to stride out of the prison in disguise and join the ranks of the First Order undetected.

She was on board a Star Destroyer, the flagship of the fleet, which was currently on a mission to conquer a recalcitrant system which had decided not to surrender up its resources for free and was defending itself instead. This information was readily available at an unoccupied terminal in a deserted back up control room, and Rey had no trouble locating various other interesting pieces of data, such as the current weapons complement of the First Order fleet, override codes for its shield generators, and plans for various armament design programmes. She packaged up all of this and sent it out in a transmission addressed to Leia's personal code, which she then called, not long afterwards.

The General's face filled the screen, suffused with an expression of more hope than Rey had seen since the battle of Crait. Rey took off the stormtrooper helmet.

'Well done,' congratulated the other woman. 'I knew you'd be alright.'

Rey beamed. 'I'm fine. They locked me up, but I've escaped, and this ship is big enough to hide on for days, as long as I'm careful. I'll get the books back, work out how to break the bond and steal as much information as I can in the process.'

Leia's smile widened. 'This was a calculated risk, but I knew it was the right course of action. I knew we needed someone on the inside to feed us information and I realised that your weakness was the perfect way in. I know my son, and I know he wouldn't have asked you to join him if he wasn't attached to you – and he wouldn't give up the opportunity to get you back, particularly if you were no longer a threat.'

Rey's smile faltered as she thought that through. 'Did you give me to the First Order on purpose? Is that why you didn't do much to help me break the bond?'

Leia nodded. 'It's not a bad plan, this little game of Snoke's. But you and I can use it to bring down the First Order once and for all. You're on the inside now. Steal their secrets, Rey. Destroy them. Destroy them all.'

Rey said, in a small voice. 'And what about me? How do I break the bond and escape?'

Leia shrugged. 'I can't help you with that. You're on your own.'

A familiar voice stationed somewhere behind her said, 'She's always had a ruthless streak.'

Rey didn't get as far as turning before the sound of a blaster signalled another descent into darkness.

He was tinkering with the specification for his new Dreadnaught when the ship wide alarm sounded. 'Escaped prisoner on Level 53. Propulsion to lockdown. Hangar doors closed. Shields in top level access mode only.'

He sighed, toggled a button set into his desk. 'Supreme Leader to prison detail. Report.'

The voice of a different lieutenant than the one he'd spoken to earlier replied, shaky and rushed. 'The Resistance prisoner has escaped Supreme Leader, dressed as a stormtrooper. The entire guard squadron has been knocked out.'

Kylo shook his head – Dameron was more resourceful than he'd been expecting. 'Shoot him on sight. He's of no use to anyone.'

The voice replied. 'Him?'

Kylo stabbed a few buttons on his desk. It was a small matter to call up Rey's biometric data and route it through to the location technology built into each set of armour, and a ping from the system came back within a few seconds as a suit on Level 27 reported that its current occupant matched the query. He took the red coated guards who followed him everywhere, but he also took the precaution of bringing a couple of droids along, just to be on the safe side.

Rey seemed completely oblivious to his presence as he arrived behind her, too busy concentrating on her conversation with his mother to notice the fact that she was in the process of being captured. He left her alone long enough to understand what sort of character General Organa actually was, and then he shot her in the back and watched her crumple to the floor.

This time he was more cautious, and he motioned to the droids to retrieve her so he didn't have to touch her himself, a stretcher summoned from the nearest storage bay to transport her back to the prison level. The sight that met his eyes back on Level 53 was carnage. A hundred guards were assigned to patrol the prison wing and all of them were still flat out on the shiny black floor, despite the fact that nearly all the Destroyer's medical team were in attendance trying to wake them up.

'How did this happen?' he demanded of the lieutenant in charge.

'The surveillance footage shows her just walking up to the front desk and then everyone looks in the other direction and falls over. There was no warning, no chance to sound an alarm, they all just went down at the same time. She takes one of the guards back to her cell, strips him, puts his suit on and then strolls out, calm as you like. I'm the shift change leader and when I got here with the new detail for handover the entire previous shift was on the floor like this – and we can't wake them up.'

Kylo glanced over at the woman on the stretcher speculatively. His instinct was that this was Force related, she wasn't armed, and there was no sign of injury to any of the units on the floor, but he'd never suspected she was capable of such powerful mind control. To knock out so many individuals so quickly was a skill that he'd never mastered, although he could see how it was technically possible. He wondered why she hadn't used this particular talent on the Praetorian Guard when they'd been fighting together after he'd killed Snoke, it would have been more effective than the hand to hand combat they'd had to use instead.

'How did she get out of her cell?' he asked after a moment.

The soldier shrugged. 'She just bent the bars. It doesn't look like they were all that strong.'

They were durasteel bars, thick and heavy and crafted by the best metalworkers he'd ever met who had been conscripted into the First Order's ranks some time ago and now kept him supplied with bespoke, made to measure helmets. Rey hadn't just managed to bend two of them, she'd managed to warp them all – the entire cage was listing, pushed to one side by the power with which she'd ripped a hole in the middle of it and escaped. As reassurance, Kylo raised a finger and tested a bar with his own strength. He could move it with the Force, but not without some effort, and she'd found it in herself to smash the lot, all in one go.

'I think we'll abandon the cage, for now,' he said, not wanting to think too hard about the implications of what Rey had somehow achieved, mere minutes after waking from her drug induced stupor. 'Put her back in an ordinary cell.'

He followed the stretcher into the next room along, leaving his personal detachment in the corridor and sealed himself and the droids behind the locked door. Rey tossed her head on the bare metal on which she lay, the blaster stun already wearing off.

'Sedate her,' he ordered, to give him some time to work out what to do, and the droids hurried to obey. He contacted the new lieutenant with orders. 'I want this cell reinforced. Every wall is to be plated, double thickness, as strong as the hull of the ship, and the same with the ceiling and the floor. No joins, no weaknesses, nothing she can exploit. Replace the guard for this cell with a predator droid and ensure there is one outside her door at all times.' He paused, thinking. 'And bring me a dress.'

It should be possible to construct a prison to keep a Jedi in – all he had to do was build a cell that he couldn't escape from and that should be enough to contain her as well. Rey couldn't possibly be any stronger than he was, given the fact that she was younger, less experienced and had no training. Predator droids had reaction times far faster than any living thing and were programmed to shoot the instant movement was detected – she wouldn't be able to use mind control on a machine either.

The door hissed open and one of his personal guard handed him a scrap of bright red fabric. He wasn't going to make the same mistake twice, and he passed it over immediately to one of the waiting droids.

'Get her out of that ridiculous costume,' he ordered. 'And put this on her instead.'

He told himself he wasn't going to look, and he did begin to turn around as the droids simply cut between the armour plates but they were much too speedy and there was a short moment in which Rey was lying in front of him in just her underwear. Everything she wore was a dingy greyish white colour, from the band she had wrapped around her small, perfect breasts to the skimpy shorts that began below her flat stomach and finished at the top of her gently rounded thighs. His heart gave an unexpected lurch in his chest. Her body was strong in a subtle, unobtrusive way, toned rather than defined, and she was soft in all the places he wanted a woman to be soft, but there was a grace about her, despite the sedative induced laxity of her limbs.

He wanted to make her come so hard she cried with it.

Then the red fabric was yanked over her head and he was left with only the memory of that stolen glance, and a fervent desire to punch something. He took a deep breath, two, put all of the burgeoning fantasies in his head into storage and left the room to get on with his day.


	12. Chapter 12

It was a different prison that she woke up to this time, one without bars, just a white walled room, climate controlled with a soft floor and no other amenities. Rey blinked at it stupidly for a minute before rolling over with a groan and rubbing at her face. Someone had stripped her of the stormtrooper costume, and instead she was dressed in a bright red shift, which gaped around her chest, skimmed the top of her thighs and seemed specifically designed to make her both conspicuous and self-conscious, and presumably therefore less likely to escape. Whoever had stolen her clothes was going to pay for that miscalculation.

She rifled through her memories for a while, selected a passage from one of the Jedi tomes she'd been reading a few days ago and then expanded her awareness of the Force to the construction of the cell. It seemed she had a natural gift for understanding inanimate objects, because she could see the flaws in the cell's design and worked out exactly which panel in the roof she should hit in order to access an air conditioning vent right behind. This time her escape went up, instead of out the front door as she blasted through the ceiling, propelled herself into a high jump with the Force, and then headed out into the bowels of the ship.

Crawling through the superstructure was a much less obvious way to get around she decided, since First Order employees seemed to be permanently looking at the ground instead of the stars. This time she borrowed a spare uniform from a store room, replaced it with the stupid dress, and then spent some time commandeering a maintenance terminal to feed her information that the Resistance might find of value.

Something prevented her from transmitting it though. She had mixed feelings about the General's approach to her staff, and to Rey in particular. Although she appreciated the reasons Leia might have wanted her located with the First Order fleet, and indeed, have wanted to break any residual feeling she might have had for Ben by making an example of Chandrila, still she didn't approve of the General's methods.

Rey cached the data she'd taken for later retrieval, sitting cross legged in the ceiling, munching on a purloined energy ration and plotting out her next steps. Luke's books were on this ship somewhere, and she had to both retrieve them, and find some way of breaking the bond, before she was captured again. She set off in the direction of the Supreme Leader's quarters, and got half the way there, when her legs gave out under her.

She thought she'd bashed her knee on something, tried to rub it back into circulation and then realised that her hand was rapidly going numb. She felt a brief and all-consuming moment of terror. She was hidden in the roof space of a battleship, no one knew she was there, and if the paralysis that had been inflicted on her was reasserting itself, soon she would no longer be able to move, or even call for help. She'd be stuck, here in the ceiling until her breathing failed and she suffocated. Given the speed with which her control over her body was being eroded before Leia had abandoned her, she had no way of knowing if her breathing would still function when Ben left the ship.

That must be what was happening. He'd realised she'd escaped, couldn't find her, and knew that once he was out of range she'd be helpless. He was using her weakness against her.

She rolled over onto her back with the last strength in her arms, felt them flop helplessly onto the bare metal, her legs already dead and useless. She concentrated on her chest, making sure it kept rising and falling as her mouth fell slack and the paralysis became complete. She had no choice.

She reached out quickly with the Force, felt for the edges of the ceiling below her, ripped a big hole in it and fell, with an enormous bang and a cloud of dust, into the heavily populated mess hall below.

The ship wide alarm came in while he was having breakfast, sitting in the mess hall alone, but surrounded by hundreds of troops, all having exactly the same thing, prepared in exactly the same kitchen. He waited until a significant number were eating the gloopy porridge like mess without dying before tasting it himself, and gagging.

'Escaped prisoner on Level 53. Propulsion to lockdown. Hangar doors closed. Shields in top level access mode only.'

He was already moving before the message had finished. 'Supreme Leader to prison detail. Report.'

The same lieutenant he'd dealt with last time answered, a hint of admiration in his voice. 'She's escaped again, sir. Straight up through the ceiling. Didn't set off any alarms and we don't know how long she's been gone.'

'Through the ceiling?'

It had taken two complete days' work to refashion the cell around her and after the final inspection he'd been sure she was never getting out. 'Can you track her?'

'No, sir. She's only wearing the dress you put her in and there's no homing device in it. She's gone up into the infrastructure and there's no surveillance up there, we don't usually have people hiding in the ceiling. She could be anywhere by now.'

'Lock down all terminals,' he ordered. 'She'll be trying to speak to the Resistance again. I know how to flush her out of hiding, but you need to contact me the minute you recapture her.'

He squared his shoulders and headed for his fighter. This was going to hurt him far more than it hurt her – he'd be screaming, and she'd just have trouble standing up, but then, Snoke's punishments had never been exactly fair. He strapped himself into the pilot's char, set a course straight out into space and rigged the controls for an immediate return to the Destroyer at the push of a single button, which he was hoping he'd still be able to manage. Then he looked around for something to bite down on.

The pain began even before the approach of the fighter had triggered the door release and as the ship streaked out among the stars it built into a crescendo. He was aware of his muscles locking in a desperate attempt to shut out the agony, his body rigid, arching out of the chair. His jaws clamped together and the noises his throat was making to give vent to the screaming of his nerves were strangled behind the wall of teeth. Sweat dripped into his eyes, blinding him, and then without warning, the convulsions started. He lost control completely, bucking and writhing against the straps, spit slicking his chin, knowing with a dim and distant fragment of his mind that he couldn't survive this much longer. There was a noise in his ears, but his brain was overloaded with physical input and it took several sluggish moments before he understood the report and managed to hit the return button with an elbow.

By the time the fighter was safely back in the hangar he was pale faced, still sweating, and more furious than he'd ever been in his life.

He swept off the ship and made for the main medical bay. Kylo had always preferred droids to real people where doctors were concerned - he'd had so many injuries after he'd joined Snoke that he required their attention every day, and after a while the barely suppressed sympathy became annoying. Unfortunately, while the First Order used droids for routine medical procedures, anything that required thinking was given to a breathing person, which mean that Kylo had to talk to Rey's physician.

She was flat on her back on a bed, unconscious, which was how she seemed to spend most of her spare time these days and dressed in one of those revealing surgical gowns he'd found himself wearing not long before. He tried to ignore all the leg on display, focused on what the uniformed practitioner was trying to tell him.

'What do you mean she isn't injured? I heard she fell through a ceiling.'

The other man nodded. 'And so she did. She was covered in grime when she arrived here, I had to put her through the fresher. She should have broken her back, or fractured her pelvis, or at the very least got a bump on the head, but she got away with a few scratches. It's remarkable.'

'It's just lucky,' Kylo contradicted him, gritting his teeth.

Despite his resolution, it appeared he was going to have to keep her sedated or risk spending every day locking her up after she'd escaped. It seemed she could break out of any prison he could devise.

'No,' the doctor said. 'It's remarkable. Watch.'

He put a hand on Rey's leg, his fingers resting gently on top of her thigh.

Kylo reached out without thinking about it and knocked the other man's hand away.

'You try,' the doctor gestured. 'Touch her leg. Or anywhere.'

'No, thank you.'

The physician shrugged. 'You'll agree that it is possible to touch her though, without danger. Now try to hit her.'

Kylo raised an eyebrow, but didn't need to be asked twice, his muscles still aching from where the straps on the pilot's chair had dug in while he'd been screaming with the pain she'd caused. He drew back his hand and slapped her face as hard as he could. It felt like punching a wall. He didn't even connect with her skin, before the blow landed something bounced his hand away and left his fingers stinging. Bemused he ignited his lightsaber, slashed her arm with it hard it enough to chop it off, but the weapon flew out of his hands before impact, its own energy rebounding it off the far wall.

His eyes widened. 'How is she doing that?'

'I was hoping you could tell me. Her brain scans show she's asleep, and as long as she's touched gently nothing happens, but the minute she's approached with physical force she protects herself. Doesn't seem to work with remote weapons like blasters. I don't know how she's doing it.'

'I don't want you touching her gently,' Kylo snapped. 'I don't want you touching her at all. If she's fit, then she doesn't need to be here any more. Have her transferred to the guest quarters on my floor. And put a cover on her.'

The implications of Rey's new ability weren't lost on him. He'd seen her injured before, he'd seen her bleed, so this talent she'd developed had to be something new. It appeared that he couldn't keep her imprisoned, and he couldn't hurt her – if he wanted her to do as she was told he was going to have to ask nicely.

He followed her motionless body down to the hospitality area at a distance, didn't help as she was put to bed and he directed the mechanical attendants to clear anything heavy or breakable from the room before sending them away. Then he sat on the bed and waited for her to wake up. There was a chair he could have used, or he could have stayed standing, and loomed over her impressively as she opened her eyes but instead he chose the bed and continued to wait. It didn't take long.

Her eyeballs rolled under their tight fleshy blankets, she moaned gently, but the sound was low and needy, and not the noise of someone preparing to wake up. Her hips bucked once against the mattress and slowly the balance of her weight shifted and she tilted onto her back. The movement shucked off the sheet that had been pulled over her and he saw that her hand was wedged down the front of her shorts. She murmured in her sleep – 'Kylo' and her pelvis raised once, then began to move rhythmically against the pressure of her hand.

He made no noise, stilled his breathing, concentrated on the wet rasp as her fingers slid inside the smooth casing of her cunt. She moaned again, whispered his name on a sigh, and the liquid sound of her clitoris moving in its sodden den filled the air. He could smell her, wanted to put his hand inside her underwear and seek the source, bring it to his lips and suck it off his fingers.

He sighed, ran a hand over his hair. It was time to admit the truth.

The pain he felt when she wasn't around was matched by the animal lust he felt when she was, and the more time they spent together the more likely it was that these fantasies he was having would become a reality.

This would be how he would win. She loved him, he was sure of it, and he could use that to control her. He would let her think that he loved her back, and when her defences were down, and the bond was broken, when he'd had enough of making her dance to his tune, when she was on her knees before him he'd reject her, kill her and take his revenge.

It was time to tell her how he felt.


	13. Chapter 13

The third time she awoke, she was no longer in prison, which was an improvement. The surface underneath her was soft, comfortable, and it sent a sweet throb of pleasure through her as she stretched out, smiling. Her eyes flickered open, the swell of contentment rolling over her and she sat up, keen to see what delights awaited her this time.

Ben was sitting on the bed next to her, the mattress dipping under his weight. She scrambled backwards, pushing away the artificial enjoyment that the Force bond always threw her way whenever he was present and glanced around for weapons. She was in a large room, simply furnished, but better equipped than her last two cells with a proper bed, a chair, panels in the walls that might be concealing storage cupboards or other rooms, and a window. There was nothing obvious with which she could hit him.

He anticipated the direction of her thoughts. 'I have only to walk out of this room, board a shuttle, fly away and you'll be dead. Is that what you want?'

She shook her head.

'If I confine you to this room will you try to escape?' He asked the question as if he already knew the answer.

She rolled a shoulder in assent.

'What if I ask you not to?'

'Will you give me my books back?'

'No.'

'Then I'll escape.'

'Fine. I'll assign a squad to accompany you at all times, until they become unnecessary.'

'Unnecessary? You think I'll decide I don't want to escape?'

He shifted on the bed until he was facing her properly and frowned. He looked better than he had done last time she'd seen him, lying on a medical table somewhere. He was a slightly more normal colour, the skin around his eyes less blotched with shadow, and he was washed and dressed now, that familiar lemony scent drifting into her nostrils.

'Do you still not understand what is happening here?'

She tried to shake it, but the memory of the look in his eyes when he'd asked her to join him was strong within her, the struggle she'd had to resist, how tempted she'd felt to give in. It didn't help that they were back in the same room, face to face, with his presence stamped all over her awareness, demanding her attention. She shook her head, although it was more to deny the impact he was having on her than any lack of understanding.

He spoke slowly, patiently, and as if he was explaining to a very small child. 'The link between us was set up to bring us together. When we are apart we are punished, and when we are together we are rewarded. Do you see?'

'Not really. When we're apart I get punished. I'm the one who can't walk. I'm the one who can't breathe. You get to fly around on shuttles doing what you want.'

He sighed, looked at the floor. 'I don't. The further you are away from me, the more it hurts.'

He didn't elaborate, and she had to encourage him. 'Go on.'

He flashed her a wary look. 'What else is there to say? You can't breathe. I'm in pain. Snoke used to do this all the time. Punishment and reward. It's quite straightforward.'

'Yes, but I can't breathe. I haven't got a choice about it like you have, it takes over my life. I can't do anything else but lie there and wait for you to turn up.'

He flicked invisible fluff off his trousers. 'It's just as bad for me. Worse possibly, but I manage it better than you do. I have a lot of experience in managing pain.'

He glanced up then, and the expression in his eyes silenced her. There was old agony in those eyes, the scars of frequent and repeated torture, not all of which was emotional, and not all of which was self-inflicted. He shifted under her scrutiny, and something in him changed, shutting down the glimpse she'd had into his soul.

On impulse, she reached out and touched his hand. The response was immediate and unexpected. It was like an echo of the rush of happiness she'd always felt when they were connected by the Force but magnified a thousand-fold. She was conscious of every single place she was touching his skin, felt that spark of contact flare somewhere deep within her body as it swelled and grew into a flame, raced through her limbs and left her breathless. It was pleasure, and desire, and want and hope and need all rolled up together into a ball of sensation that lent a blush to her cheeks, accelerated her heartbeat and put a hitch in her breathing.

She snatched her hand back quickly. 'What was that?'

He was watching her lips. His throat worked, and he swallowed, wrenching his attention away with an effort. 'Reward,' he said. 'Peace is a lie, there is only passion. Through passion, I gain strength. Through strength, I gain power. Through power I gain victory. Through victory my chains are broken. The Force shall free me.'

'What does that mean?' She tried to snap back into the person she'd been before she'd touched his hand, but she felt bent out of shape somehow, as if something fundamental inside her had shifted.

'When we are apart we are punished,' he repeated. 'And when we are together, we are rewarded. Snoke's way of getting you to come to me, one way or the other.'

'And, and passion?' she asked. 'What did you say about passion?'

'That's the Sith code. Passion gives you strength. Anger is good. Any kind of strong emotion can be powerful if you harness it in the right way. Hatred. Rejection. Desire. I expect Snoke thought that if he could exploit the passion between us, it would lead him to victory by bringing you straight to me, and Luke with you.'

She cleared her throat. 'What passion between us?'

He straightened away from her, got to his feet. 'Unless we find a way to break the connection between us, it will continue to get stronger. There is an inevitable conclusion. You couldn't breathe when you were a hundred parsecs away from me, but eventually that will reduce to the width of this room, and then to even less than that. You'll have to touch me if you want to live.'

'And then?' There was a quaver to her voice that she didn't care for.

'And then I won't be able to keep my hands off you.'

Her mouth fell open, and she felt her cheeks catch fire with embarrassment. He took a step back, his expression falling into set lines, the rigid mien of anger. 'Even beyond the grave Snoke's still manipulating me. I suggest we get started. Come along.'

He swept towards the threshold, hit a button and the door hissed open, revealing a phalanx of red on the other side. Putting away the end of that conversation for another time, Rey got to her feet, trotted after him obediently, finding herself enclosed in a moveable wall of crimson uniforms, which accompanied both her and the Supreme Leader down the corridor.

'You're familiar with the Praetorian Guard,' he commented. 'You are no match for them unarmed, so don't try to escape. You will speak to no one but me, see no one but me, go where I tell you to go and do exactly as I say at all times.' He paused outside another door, keyed in a code and stood back, waiting for her to pass him and enter. 'This is the library. Supreme Leader Snoke spent a lot of time here before he died. I suggest you start looking for a cure.'

He was gone with a dramatic swirl of his cloak and she stood, absorbing her new surroundings while the guards assigned to her formed an orderly line along the back wall.

Where the Jedi texts were just a few tatty old books, the Sith library was massive, full of indexed storage devices of various kinds holding the collective wisdom of the dark side of the Force, all neatly ordered and labelled in a language she didn't understand. She selected a holopad at random, switched it on, and read an obituary of the glorious Darth Bane, as set out in extensive detail on his tomb on the Sith home world of Moraband. She shelved the book, selected another, reasoning that if Snoke had been researching Force bonds and how to create them, he might not have been bothered to return the source texts to their rightful place in the index, which meant that the books closest to the door might be the right ones.

The next book flickered into life halfway through a graphic illustration of Force lightning and how to generate it, and she tried for some time to follow the instructions before giving up, lacking the necessary self-discipline. The next shelf down held a series of orderly holocubes, and she lit one experimentally, retreating further into the stacks, and away from the scrutiny of the guards when she realised what the projection was.

A young man entered the scene from the left of the picture, and although she knew his face, he was so different in this recording that she let it run to check it was really him. He was younger, fresher of face and lighter of step and his expression was both hopeful and innocent, not a combination she had ever seen in the flesh. He exchanged a few words with someone out of frame, and then shrugged and elevated himself into an awkward handstand, his boots against the wall. He held the position for some time until his arms began to shake, and his body wobbled, and he fell.

Snoke strode into the shot, said something to the boy on the floor, nudging him none too gently with a foot, and the handstand started all over again. Rey watched with increasing concern as one fall became two, then three, then four, and the boy dragged himself back off the floor every time and assumed the same upside down position, although by the end of it his entire body was shaking with strain, tears streaming down his face and dripping onto the floor as his new master watched with obvious disappointment. Eventually he could take no more punishment, curled into a ball while Snoke bent over, said something disparaging, and walked away.

As soon as he'd gone, the boy, who had probably only recently relinquished the name of Solo, hauled himself back upright once again, wiped his eyes on his sleeve, and then, although there was no one around to watch, pushed himself back into the handstand again until his eyelids flickered shut and he collapsed into unconsciousness. It made her heart ache to see him.

She returned the cube to the shelf, chose another at random and carried it somewhere more private. This one opened towards the end of a fight. The same young man was present, but one of his eyes was swollen shut, the hands that gripped the wooden staff he was holding were caked in blood and although he still fought, his three opponents were winning. She watched them beat him into a red mess on the floor, while his master stood, arms folded, not lifting a finger to help.

Rey felt sick. These cubes, the dozens and dozens of them sitting on the shelf, were a record of the training of Kylo Ren and, if Rey wasn't much mistaken, itemised his suffering throughout the trials Snoke had inflicted on him.

Anger, hard and stern awoke within her. Anger for the young man who pushed himself beyond endurance, and accepted this pain as his lot, anger at the monster who had tortured him in the name of training, and rage that the whole thing had been recorded for future enjoyment.

She reached out with her knowledge of the Force, a gentler, more compassionate strength, and vaporised every holocube on the shelf.

He wasn't entirely satisfied with her reaction. He'd mentioned passion between them and she looked blank and when he'd thrown not being able to keep his hands off her into the conversation she'd only seemed embarrassed. Was it possible that she didn't fantasise about him the same way he fantasised about her? The thought was barely credible, and he pushed it away.

His room was in a different part of the floor to hers, and he made his way back there after dropping her off in the library. He'd never been an enthusiastic student, and Snoke had all but banned him from the library once he realised Kylo wasn't interested in reading about the history of the Sith and was only looking for ways in which he could become more powerful than his master.

He opened the Jedi texts with some trepidation, but it only took him a few seconds to ascertain they held nothing useful to him at all. Barely one word in ten was legible, most of the pages cluttered with pointless images and writing that was more decorative than functional, and even after flicking the pages of a single book he found the content so dry and dull that he wanted to fall asleep. There was no index or contents, or anything that might help a reader find a solution to the breaking of a Force bond, and he flung the books aside in disgust.

They were important to Rey though, and she'd implied she wouldn't bother to escape if she had them back, so he sent a message to the data archivist to collect them, scan them into electronic form and add them to the Sith archive, before returning the hard copies to her room. He would attempt to read them later once they were in a more accessible format, and he could run them through the translation programme and peruse their content at leisure.

He suspected Rey's newfound prowess with the Force had something to do with these books, and there was no way he was letting her outmatch him in that field.

He added Rey to his surveillance protocols, but almost the minute he'd begun tracking her location, she left the library in the company of Hux, and he was off his bed immediately in hot pursuit. She'd had explicit instructions not to speak to anyone, but barely an hour later she had taken the General prisoner and was busy threatening him into helping her escape. He wasn't quite sure how he'd accomplish it without locking her up, but she was going to need reminding just who was in charge.


	14. Chapter 14

'Should you be doing that?' The voice behind her was familiar, greasy and unctuous, and it sent a wave of revulsion down her spine.

She turned, said to the blonde man at her back, 'Should you be talking to me? The Supreme Leader left orders.' Her eyes jumped to the squad of guards who must have heard those orders and were studiously ignoring them.

The uniformed man followed her gaze. 'Don't worry about them. They are the personal bodyguard to the Supreme Leader of the First Order, but they are also soldiers, and the army reports to me. They know where their true loyalties lie. Would you like a tour?'

She frowned, thrown by the change of direction.

'A tour of the ship,' he clarified. 'I think the Supreme Leader may have overlooked some basic courtesies in his rush to imprison you. I wondered if you'd like to see your prison?'

She tilted her head, considering. There was no way the offer was genuine; whoever he was, this man had clearly never done anything for altruistic reasons in his life, but since he was prepared to lead, she was prepared to follow. He showed her into the corridor, and the guard formed into neat lines behind them.

'Did Ben send you?' She repeated the same enquiry she'd made last time.

He curled his lip. 'He commands the First Order, but my decisions are my own. I understand you are part of the Resistance leadership – have you been interrogated yet?'

'Interrogated?' she snorted. 'I'd like to see him try.'

'Then you have provided us with intelligence voluntarily?'

'I've provided you with nothing, except some books which I'd like back and a broken lightsaber.'

'This level is reserved for the Supreme Leader,' the man explained, changing the subject. 'Here you will find living quarters, guest accommodation, training facilities, a recreation suite, private hospitality and catering services and the barracks of the Praetorian Guard.' He gestured for her to precede him through a large doorway, which housed ranks of weapons, stacked in quick release racks and ready for deployment.

'This level has its own armoury, which is never locked, and you need only to touch a button' - here he demonstrated - 'to access any gun of your choosing.'

Rey thought this was an odd point to make to a prisoner but justified it by the confidence he must have in the red coated guards to keep her away from anything dangerous. They had reached the end of the corridor and the man stepped into a lift.

'The transportation system is freely available to all and will take you wherever you want to go. For example, if you wanted to access the main shield generators on Level 4, this would be the way to get there.'

'Why would I want to access the shield generators?'

He shrugged. 'The Resistance are always fascinated by our shields, I thought I'd save you the trouble of asking.'

The lift stopped moving and they stepped out into a wide-open space.

'This is the main hangar bay. This is only a Destroyer, so we're limited to short range fighters and shuttles. The fighters are more difficult to access, they can be remotely operated from the command deck and forced to return to base or self destructed at will.'

He moved towards a terminal at the back of the hall.

'If the hangar doors are closed, you can open them from here, but only captains have the required authority. Alternatively, the Supreme Leader's personal craft, the fighter and the shuttle, on the left there, have automatic override, so if you were to be piloting one of them the doors would open without manual intervention and no one on the bridge could prevent your escape.' He stopped, raising his eyebrows.

Rey wasn't exactly sure what he was expecting from her.

He waved a hand. 'Would you like to see inside the command shuttle?'

She frowned. 'Are you expecting me to try to escape?'

He shrugged, a delicate and considered manoeuvre. 'I doubt I would be able to prevent a powerful Jedi such as yourself from escaping if you were really determined to do so.'

She glanced at the ship he'd indicated, and then scrutinised his expression. 'I don't want to escape. Not right now.'

He smiled encouragingly. 'And why is that? You were keen not to be behind bars last time I saw you.'

'It's complicated.' Rey decided she was uncomfortable with this entire conversation. Whatever the man wanted, she wasn't sure she should give it to him, but a voice from behind broke in and meant she didn't have to.

'What are you doing?'

The Supreme Leader's tone was threatening, and she turned to see him approaching across the hangar bay, flanked by his own red cloaked cadre. He drew to a halt and she was interested to see how the blonde man would react to getting his comeuppance, so it took her a few seconds to realise the question was directed at her.

'I was offered a tour.'

'I left you with very clear instructions,' he snapped. 'Speak to no one but me. Do I have to lock you up again?'

She raised her eyebrows. 'Try.'

His hand went for the hilt of his lightsaber, and at the same moment, the guards formed a circle around the two of them, weapons raising. Behind them, the blonde melted away, removing himself from the situation.

'While you are here, you will do as I say.'

Ben's face was dark with anger, but Rey found it had lost the power to move her. She no longer felt frightened by him, in fact, as she stood there and faced him down the main emotion flowing through her was sympathy.

She took a pace forward. 'I am a prisoner here,' she acknowledged. 'But I'm not your prisoner.'

She folded her arms, closed her eyes and concentrated, secure enough to show him that level of weakness. There was another technique she'd picked up from her tatty textbooks that she wanted to try. There was a mild disturbance in the Force, a gentle ripple and when she opened her eyes again, every red uniformed guard had voluntarily marched to the other side of the hangar bay, leaving their weapons on the ground.

Ben was staring at her with something like awe. 'Is that from the Jedi books?'

She nodded.

'And does it work remotely? When you aren't actually in the room?'

'I don't see why not.'

'And how many people can you affect in one go? Snoke told me about a Sith once who could control all the minds on an entire planet.' He was a step away from asking her to show him what she'd done, she could tell.

'I haven't practised,' she replied. 'I'm not sure how strong it is. I'm going back to the library now, not because you've told me to but because I want to. Alright?'

She wasn't really asking permission, and in any case, she was pretty sure he'd allow her anything after that demonstration. As she walked away she could feel his eyes on her until she left the room.

After a long day in the library Rey's head was full of dark dreams and she found it hard to sleep, eventually switching on Holonet in the early hours, since, in her new accommodation, that was the only channel available.

The news was full of an interview with General Hux, whom she recognised as the slimy blonde she'd now met twice, denying the rumour apparently circulating among the ranks that Supreme Leader Ren had had anything to do with the assassination of Supreme Leader Snoke. The more earnest his protestations became, the less convincing he sounded. Rey switched him off and padded around her bedroom, opening doors and exploring cupboards, finding that her luggage had been unpacked and neatly ordered, and that the Jedi texts had been returned and were stacked on a concealed bookcase. Doubtless the contents had been copied by now, but she was still comforted by the fact that she'd asked for the books back, and back they'd come. She could worry about deleting the copies from the First Order storage database in the morning.

For now, she flicked through the pages, the archaic language and sheer difficulty of the task of translation strangely comforting amidst the clean, hard lines, the purified, ascetic atmosphere of the First Order. Eventually, she laid the books aside, let her head relax onto the pillow, and thought about his hands. He wouldn't be able to keep his hands off her. That was what he'd said, and it was both a threat and a promise. He had very large hands. Despite anything he might have meant about whether he actually wanted to touch her, or was being forced into it, the part that stuck in her imagination, late at night and lying alone in bed, was the size of his hands.

Bigger than hers, broad of palm, with long, strong fingers that finished on a blunt end rather than a taper. Nails he looked after. Hands made soft with the near constant protection of leather. Hands that could wield a weapon with dexterity and skill. If he put them on her, what would they do?

She found it easier to think about his hands than the rest of him. She'd always been more concerned about the thoughts and emotions inside his head than with his body. She didn't love Kylo Ren, couldn't imagine anyone looking beyond the death and destruction that mask brought and finding him worthy of love. It was Ben she was interested in, and it was Ben's hands she imagined, alone in the dark.

She would wake to find those hands cupping her breasts, a secure and snug fit in his palms and she would be sitting up, her back against his chest, his legs on either side of hers, boxing her in, protecting her, surrounding her. She wouldn't see his face, but he'd blow her hair off her neck, find a spot just below her earlobe and kiss it. His lips would be warm, his tongue a gentle traveller over her skin, and she'd look down, and concentrate on his hands.

They would squeeze, and she would smile, accepting his right to own what only one or two other men had ever dared to borrow. Then his hands would move, and his palms would graze her nipples with a circular motion until both had lifted under his attention and he'd blow in her ear and pinch the tight little peaks until the pressure made her moan. He would roll them between his fingers and her nails would scratch his thighs and she'd feel herself growing damp.

He'd pause, asking for permission without words, and she'd hook her legs over his, spreading herself wide for the next stage in this intimate journey. It would be his right hand that would find her clitoris first, stroking it, playing with it while she rested her head on his shoulder and gasped.

She'd hear herself, the wet sloppy noises she made as she was rubbed by his finger, and she'd hear the way his breath caught in his chest and know that she shouldn't be ashamed. She'd arch her back when he changed direction, circling now, dragging the sensitive crux of her pleasure round and around with the firm press of his digit and she'd drop her head, feel his follow hers down as they both focused on the activity between her legs. She'd feel the first tightening in her groin, the first harbinger of impending climax and he'd hiss, increasing the pressure, setting up a side to side whip of friction which engaged the deeper parts of her core and she'd cry out. He'd concentrate, his hand a hard, rhythmic piston powering away between her thighs and her hands would clench convulsively, the air would be trapped in her lungs and for a slice of time that felt like forever she'd hang on the brink of an orgasm.

Then he'd push her over the edge, and her hips would lift, striving for every ounce of bliss and she'd cry out his name, but he wouldn't answer, concentrating on not stopping until the last raw gasps of pleasure were wrung from her lips. Her wetness would make his finger slip, and he'd raise it to his mouth, sucking off the residue and she'd smell herself on him and know that he was hers.

Rey removed her hand from her shorts, satisfied. If he couldn't keep his hands off her she could deal with it, it was the rest of him that might be a problem. He clearly hated her, and she didn't relish the thought that someone so motivated to kill her would find himself forced to share her bed – it could only end badly. He should stay in her dreams, him and his wonderful, sensitive hands.


	15. Chapter 15

She was woken in the morning by the hum of the entrance signal, answering the door in the short red shift someone had retrieved from the store room where she'd left it and that she'd decided to sleep in. Ben took one look at her and averted his eyes, complaining. 'Why is it you are never up and dressed at a reasonable hour? I'm going to set an alarm for you tomorrow.'

She grimaced. 'I couldn't sleep. Look what I found.'

She led the way towards the open book lying on the end of the bed, pointed out the relevant passage, the first she'd found in all the days of reading. The content described Force bonds, how they frequently developed naturally over time between master and apprentice, but in rare cases formed through an immediate attachment between two Force sensitive individuals. In one case a Jedi master had developed a bond so strong with her apprentice that she had sought to break it because the lives of both partners had become connected to such an extent that the death of one would have meant the end for both.

'I can't even kill you,' she noted gloomily. 'If I kill you, I'll die too.'

'I'm sure you'll get over the disappointment.' He sounded almost cheerful. 'Did you find anything in the library?'

She shook her head. 'I don't know where to start looking. Any suggestions?'

'I've hardly spent any time in it,' he admitted. 'I was only allowed in under supervision when I was training, and now I'm in charge I don't have time.'

She was sure from that answer, that he had no idea what the library had contained about him, and since she'd spent much of yesterday purging the rest of it, now he'd never know.

In truth, Ben Solo had never stood much of a chance. From Snoke's diaries and notes it was clear he'd pursued the child almost from the moment of his birth, looking for any weakness, any opportunity to cast his skeletal shadow over Ben's formative years. There were the manufactured rebellions against the New Republic, timed to coincide with key anniversaries, holidays, festivals, designed to ensure that Ben's mother was never around when he needed her most. His father had been tempted away on lucrative and long term missions that kept him occupied away from home for significant periods of time, ensuring that the boy's feelings of abandonment grew. Strategically placed individuals within the household, school and activities were there when the young Ben needed someone in whom to confide, and the introduction to Snoke, when it was finally made, came naturally, accompanied by a sense of having finally found a friend.

No wonder Ben's face in that first holocube had seemed so hopeful, so innocent. He had been groomed his entire life, moulded and shaped and coloured by Snoke's malign influence. The man in front of Rey was exactly whom Snoke had designed him to be, and when she considered that, it wasn't sympathy towards him she felt, but compassion.

She'd come to the conclusion, unable to sleep and leafing through the books for a solution, that there was nothing she could do to heal his past, but his future was his own, and the brief time together that the bond had secured would be spent in making sure he made more informed choices.

He broke into her thoughts. 'Speaking of which, today is a busy day. I have to go and negotiate a peace treaty. I expect you'd like to come with me, given the alternative.'

She made a circling motion with one finger and he turned his face to the wall obediently while she dressed. 'Since when did the First Order want peace?' she queried, slinging on her clothes from where they'd been neatly hung in a wardrobe and brushing back her hair.

'I've let the past die,' he said. 'I'm bringing a new order to the galaxy, without you.'

When she was ready, she tapped him on the shoulder. 'You seem to be with me at the moment. Let's go.'

The planet on which they landed, complete with an entire complement of Praetorian Guard, was dark. It was a long way from its star, and examining the barren, rock strewn landscape after disembarking, Rey found it hard to imagine what could possibly exist here that anyone else would want.

There had been no conversation in the shuttle and no opportunity for questions. As an enemy of the regime, Rey was relegated to a position at the back of the squadron as they attempted to simultaneously defend the Supreme Leader against external attack and defend the Supreme Leader against her. He'd spent the journey in the cockpit reading, by the look of it, although if she'd known him well enough to be sure of his body language, Rey might have said he was nervous.

He strode away confidently enough once they were down though, leading the way towards a narrow pass in the cliffs, full of shadow, with plenty of cover, where the red coated guards would be strung out and could be picked off one by one if anyone was so minded. Rey was in no way experienced in the arena of military tactics, but she wondered at the lack of concern with which the Praetorian Guard were letting their commander outpace them in front, without so much as sending scouts to check the safety of the terrain they were entering. She cast her mind back to the Jedi texts again which, despite their opaque wording, seemed to have branded themselves into her memory in a series of clear instructions and reached out.

She sensed that there were men hiding in the rocks, apprehensive, armed, listening to the tramp of booted feet approach. She pushed past the guards, sped to the front of the column.

'Ben – have you told the people on this planet that you come in peace? Do they know this isn't an attack?'

He gave her a condescending look. 'Don't call me that in company. And no, I don't look after the administrative arrangements myself. We're going to be late.' He headed towards the defile.

She stopped, refusing to follow. 'There are fifty men hiding in that pass and they've all been told to shoot on sight. Who looks after the admin?'

He pulled up. 'General Hux.'

'Could I have a word in private?' She cocked her head at the guard and he waved them away.

She stepped closer, so that her words would reach his ears alone, conscious of the piercing attention of those dark eyes fixed on hers. 'Are you sure this isn't a trap? I don't trust Hux. He doesn't like you much.'

He shrugged. 'No one likes me. But it's going to be hard for even fifty rebels with blasters to take out the whole squadron. You don't need to worry. You're perfectly safe.'

'I'm perfectly safe. You're not. Hux as good as told me that the guards are loyal to him, not you. If there's a fight, are you absolutely certain they'll defend you? I was watching Hux on Holonet last night and he was denying that you killed Snoke, said the army were furious about it. The guards are only soldiers, if the army doesn't trust you, how likely is it you can rely on them in a fight?'

He considered that for a minute then turned on his heel and stamped a few paces towards the guard. 'I'll show them who's the Supreme Leader now.'

'Or,' she said calmly, 'You could leave the guards with the shuttle and you and I can go and deal with this negotiation ourselves. Unarmed. In peace. Assuming you were serious about the new order you wanted to bring to the galaxy, the one you asked me to join you for.'

He glanced from her back to the troops, standing to attention some way away, and back again. 'I was serious,' he muttered, still indecisive.

'Come on then.' She led the way into the darkened gully herself. 'Better leave the lightsaber behind.'

She sent out a pulse with the Force, using one of the techniques she'd deployed on the Star Destroyer, and after only a few steps forward she came across the boots of a collapsed would-be ambusher, unconscious and snoring.

After a while, heavy footsteps clumped behind her, but she was concentrating on trying to keep her footing on the uneven shingle in the dark, feeling her way with fingertips across the rough rock. There was a low pitched curse behind her, and then the flare of an indistinct light source, and she turned to find him stationed behind her, one of his hands engulfed in silver flame.

He looked surprised for an instant, covered it quickly with a shrug. 'This was the last thing I looked up in the library before Snoke died,' he explained. 'It's supposed to be lightning.'

'I read the book,' she acknowledged. 'But I couldn't get anything to come out of my fingers. How are you doing that?'

'Strong emotions, under control.'

She nodded. 'Impressive. I knocked out the trap, by the way.'

'I saw. Shall we go?'

He walked off, back in the lead, back in charge, clearly satisfied that his own display of power had silenced the competition. She smiled to herself.

The pass led down into an open plain, in the centre of which was a fireplace, around which had gathered a small number of tall and spindly figures, dressed in what had to be ceremonial robes. The tallest individual drew himself up to his full height and emitted a collection of strange beeps and a few short howls, punctuated by the odd grunt and a couple of hand gestures. Rey found herself at a loss, having assumed she'd be able to speak to whoever it was she was going to meet, but Ben swept past her responding in the same language, and she realised she wasn't going to be able to contribute anything useful. Instead, she stood at the back of the circle of light, watching with increasing amazement as the man who had behaved on occasion like a sulky teenager, or a dastardly villain from an old holovid showed another side to his character. He was clearly, in a succession of clicks and hand motions, being polite to these people, charming them even, in an effort to get what he wanted.

'Supreme Leader of the First Order, master of the Knights of Ren, grandson of Darth Vader, prince of Alderaan, one-time apprentice of Supreme Leader Snoke, fearsome fighter of doom, welcome to Drassia.'

Kylo raised an eyebrow. 'Is that collar too tight Lourdey, it doesn't sound like you're getting enough oxygen to your brain?'

His skeletal counterpart bowed low. 'I am humbly paying my deepest, most heartfelt respects to my new lord and master, owner of the demesne of Drassia, overlord of overlords, ruler of the paltry citizens of this planet, who cower in your much larger shadow.'

'I've already freed your planet. The First Order doesn't own you anymore. What do you mean by 'much larger'?'

'Kindly sit, esteemed Supreme Leader. I can order a bigger stool if that one isn't wide enough.'

Kylo frowned but sat down anyway. 'I'm here to discuss peace, Lord High Drass, Chief Chancellor of Drassia, Wearer of the Silver Collar of Greatness, former initiate of the Knights of Ren. Your planet is armed and hostile. I wish to negotiate the terms of a truce.'

'Are you frightened, Supreme Leader? Are you afraid I will beat you again?'

Kylo shot a glance at Rey, but she gave no hint of understanding the language. 'That wasn't a fair fight and you know it.'

The thin man sighed, a wistful expression passing across his face. 'No, but she was very beautiful, and you were easily distracted.'

'Didn't you spend the night with her afterwards?'

'And what a night it was. You were in hospital, out cold, and that just made her all the sweeter. Who's your pretty friend?'

Kylo shifted on the narrow seat. 'A gift from Snoke. And I'm not going to introduce you so don't bother asking.'

The Chief Chancellor made an exaggerated face of disappointment. 'Possessive, Kylo? That's not like you. I don't remember you ever having anyone to get possessive about.'

'Shall we talk about the truce now?' The conversation was making him uncomfortable but Lourdey Drassia, who he had known for many years and might have called a friend, if he'd ever trusted anyone enough to have friends, was sharp enough to notice.

'Of course. I don't want to fight you. We'd lose anyway, Snoke ran the entire planet into the ground. The outer shields would survive one strike from your Destroyer, maybe two, but when you landed we're so under resourced you'd overrun us in minutes. There are limited quantities of weapons, almost no ammunition and in any case, my people are too hungry to fight. But you know that. I assume that's why you decided to free Drassia from the First Order. We're basically useless to you now, you've taken everything we had. I thought I'd rather go down fighting than agree your request for tribute. It would be quicker than starving to death trying to make the payments.'

Kylo waved a hand. 'The taxes weren't my idea. I'm Supreme Leader but it's taking longer than expected to get anyone in the army to notice. They're too busy trying to kill me. I've given you back your planet, there are no First Order outposts on Drassia, you can do what you like, but I will need you to keep supplying us and I will need you to pay something for your freedom, when you can afford it.'

'We'll never be able to afford it.'

'Of course you will. This planet was great once. You used to be full of stories about it – the sparkle of the caves, the wealth of the cities, the way everything shone.'

'Snoke took it all,' the other man said. 'Just because Jedha never recovered from being shot at, Ilum is mined out and Christophsis was ransacked by the Empire. Our ranite deposits were the closest Snoke could get to kyber crystal and he stole the lot.'

'Snoke is dead. Rebuild. Open new mines. Just don't cause me any trouble and the First Order will leave you alone.'

The fire popped and sparked between them. 'How did Snoke die?'

Kylo glanced at the silent council members fanned out in the semi darkness. 'He was murdered by a Jedi.'

Lourdey raised a finger towards Rey. 'That Jedi?'

Kylo surveyed her out of the corner of his eye. She didn't look much like a Jedi. She didn't have the robes, or the lightsaber or the odd single braid, but there was an indefinable something about her, something impressive, a faint suggestion that she was worthy of respect.

Lourdey continued, 'I've had scouts on the pass down here since all those mercenaries arrived yesterday. I knew they were here to ambush you, so I just watched them prepare.'

'And you didn't think to warn me?'

The Chancellor shook his head.

And that, thought Kylo to himself, was exactly why he didn't have friends, no one could be trusted, even ex Knights of Ren who had left before their training was complete to take up a throne unexpectedly vacated by their murdered brother.

'You can look after yourself. Besides, I wanted to see if being Supreme Leader had made you fat and lazy. It seems you've become both – your friend over there knocked out all those fighters for you without firing a shot and you didn't lift a finger. Only a Jedi could do that, and a powerful one at that. By the way, have you noticed she can't stop staring at you?'

'She's been doing it all day.'

Kylo turned his hands over again, conscious of the focus of Rey's attention. He hadn't been able to find anything wrong with them, but she hadn't taken her eyes off him since he'd entered her room this morning and found she'd deliberately failed to get dressed and was standing there, taunting him with her ill-fitting nightdress and her lack of underwear. She was making him nervous. He should be glad that his plan was working of course, and that her feelings for him were growing, but this much concentrated female attention was playing havoc with his self-control. Particularly when he'd turned around while she put her clothes on, only to find the mirrored walls of her room gave a perfect reflection of the perfection of her backside. He swallowed hard, pushed the thought of grabbing it away, once again.

'It was a Jedi weapon that killed Snoke. But it wasn't her hand that was on it.'

'I don't really care as long as he's dead. Snoke was a vindictive bastard. And very good at brainwashing. I've no idea why you put up with him for so long.'

'Training,' Kylo said shortly, in an attempt to avoid this topic.

'I heard all about Snoke's idea of training.' His voice dropped into a more private volume. 'I would have helped you, if you'd asked me. I heard what happened to the rest of the Knights of Ren.'

The memory leaped into his mind - blood and screaming and a terrible sense of betrayal that lingered, after all these years. The Knights of Ren had been a halfway house after he'd fled Luke, Snoke having declared that he wasn't ready to start one on one training and steered him in the direction of the exclusive order which had welcomed him with open arms. It specialised in providing a purpose for the disenfranchised, younger siblings of established rulers, princes like Lourdey, who were never expected to succeed to the throne, others, like him, with pedigree but no inheritance. He'd felt accepted there, for a while. He'd trained, and fought and learned and bided his time, until he was strong enough to master every other member and Snoke declared him fit to become his apprentice.

Snoke said there was an initiation rite that had to be completed, just a small token to demonstrate that Kylo was free of any taint of his past, not long after he'd begun his new life as a trainee Sith. He'd struggled, resisted, but the training had gotten harder and harder as Snoke attempted to enforce obedience, and eventually he'd given in. Then the blood, and the fighting, and the screams of betrayal, and because of that memory, he'd never made it as a Sith anyway. Snoke had made him take the name so he'd never forget what he'd done. The light and the dark had been at war in him long before his father died. He remembered telling Rey once that he didn't have good memories - that was because his past was dipped in blood.

Lourdey was staring at him, his face carefully neutral. 'Like I said,' he added. 'I'm glad Snoke is dead.'

And that, thought Kylo to himself, was exactly why he didn't have friends, he couldn't be trusted. No one liked him. No one should have to.

There was one good memory, somewhere in the mix, and the dance of the firelight in the darkness brought it out. Another time, another planet, an island and the voice of a woman assuring him he was not alone. A woman who had supported him in killing Snoke and ensured that any memories he made now were of his own choosing. She was with him still, because she loved him, and for the first time he didn't want to see that as a weakness. He felt an overwhelming need to go and talk to her.

Ben got up, indicated that Rey should follow him to the far edge of the firelight and then bent close in a whisper.

'Sorry this is taking so long. Are you alright?'

She frowned at the unusual concern. 'Of course I am. How are the negotiations going?'

He blinked at her slowly, and then recovered. 'I don't like their offer, so I've told them I'll leave it. Pretend you're trying to talk me out of leaving. Shake your head or something.'

She shook her head at him dutifully, pointed back towards the fire. 'Is this a negotiation tactic?'

He kept his face straight, but his eyes were shining. 'Of course. I'll go back in a minute and ask for a better deal. I just wanted to speak to you for a minute first.'

She whispered back. 'Your mother told me you were awful at negotiation.'

His enthusiasm fell away. 'She never had any faith in me.'

'She loves you.'

'Saying 'I love you' doesn't make it real. Actions matter, not words. I have to go.'

She watched him return to the discussion and spent the next few minutes thinking about that.

Lourdey was giving him an amused look he recognised when he made it back to his seat. 'Do you remember that puppy I had once, the one with the long black fur and those big eyes that used to plead with you for a treat?'

'The one that grew as high as my chest and used to rip out people's throats for fun?'

'That's the one.'

'What about it?'

'Nothing. I was just reminded of it for a minute, that was all.'

Kylo pulled a face.

'Anyway,' Lourdey fumbled in a pocket. 'I have a gift for the mysterious individual who did kill Snoke. Here.'

He handed over a small piece of shiny rock, just smaller than his palm, and Kylo turned it over in his fingers. 'Ranite?'

'No. Kyber. The only deposit ever found on Drassia. Or the first anyway. There may be more. Let's call it a way of sealing the treaty between us. The First Order leaves us alone and drops its ridiculous demand for payment, and we will continue to supply you with whatever is left of our crystals.'

'We will leave you alone as long as you do nothing to disrupt the order of the galaxy, and defer our request for payment until such time as Drassia is back on its feet. How about that?'

Rey watched Ben accept something from the tallest of the opposing delegation, pocket it, and they bowed to each other, before he headed back to the shuttle. Halfway up the ramp he paused, came back to where she was waiting with the rearmost guards and threw whatever he was holding for her to catch.

'That's for you.'

She opened her hand to find a crystal cupped in her open palm.

I also write romance novels. The Car Crash Bride and The Postman's Daughter by Sally Anne Palmer are available now on Amazon.


	16. Chapter 16

The small, colourless crystal sat glinting on top of the open pages of the book. It was innocuous enough at the moment, she'd have to construct a whole new casing and learn how to harness its energy, but the potential was there. She could feel it calling to her. She just wasn't sure what it meant, that was all. The Jedi texts were as clear as they ever got on the subject of kyber crystals, Rey was supposed to have found this one after following a series of long drawn out and complicated rites, and a lot of humming, but instead she'd been handed it by her mortal enemy, who'd bought it secondhand from an alien on a planet in the backend of nowhere.

She wasn't sure why that same mortal enemy would have wanted to rearm his deadliest foe anyway – it made no sense. Or maybe it did, and she just hadn't worked out how replacing her lightsaber was a rational thing for him to do. She was about to get up and ask him when she realised that she could no longer feel her toes.

It was still early morning, and Rey was in bed, both book and crystal on her bedside table where she'd fallen asleep leaning over them the night before. She twitched away the covers and attempted to move her feet. Once again, everything from her ankles down was cold and dead, refusing to respond to demands and her legs were little better, although she was still blessed with limited control. She heaved herself out of bed, falling heavily into a nearby chair and pulling herself along from handhold to handhold until she reached the terminal in the wall and pushed the commands that would open a channel. 'Are you there?'

He answered immediately. 'I'm still on board. Can you walk?'

She grimaced. 'Not really. Are you in pain?'

He brushed that off. 'Do you need me to come now or can you wait until I'm dressed?'

'I can wait.'

She cut the connection accepting that, yet again, he'd be present while she was putting her clothes on. In all the times that had happened in her life, not once had he ever sneaked a look, which suggested that, whatever he meant by giving her the crystal, he had no interest in her on a personal level. He might have had once, but that was in the past, as he'd indicated before. She decided to surprise him by not being half naked when he arrived, hauling herself into the shower.

A shadow passed across the threshold before she'd finished, but it was the fact that she could stand without assistance that heralded his arrival. She left the fresher clad in a towel to find him already staring at the floor, and although she threw him a number of quick glances over her shoulder while she was retrieving her clothes from the wardrobe, she never caught him staring.

Annoyed, she threw a spare towel at his head which he paused automatically in mid air before glancing up in surprise. 'Your hair is still wet,' she snapped, disappearing back into the other room.

'The bond is getting stronger,' he called. 'I suppose this means we'll be spending a lot more time together.' There was a resigned tone to his voice.

'No need to be so enthusiastic about it,' she retorted.

'It will be difficult to explain why you're with me, that's all.'

She poked a head around the doorway. 'You're the Supreme Leader. You don't need to explain anything.'

'It doesn't entirely work like that.'

He was correct, as it turned out. An hour later she followed him into a meeting and stood, as unobtrusively as possible with the Praetorian Guard along the back wall, and was noticed by every single person who entered the room. Ben had taken a seat directly opposite her, and General Hux positioned himself at the far end of the briefing room table, surrounded by various uniformed officials. By the deferential glances they threw in his direction, they all seemed to be his flunkeys.

Hux waved in Rey's direction. 'I see we have a visitor.'

Ben steepled his fingers, tried for an authoritative expression, which Rey didn't think he pulled off very well. 'I have a medical condition. I am looking for a cure, but until then, her presence is unavoidable.'

Hux's eyebrows nearly hit the ceiling. 'She's a medical condition? She looks like a member of the Resistance leadership to me. A member of the Resistance who hasn't been interrogated, or provided us with any intelligence, and who has sent at least one transmission to the rebels already. In what way is she a medical condition?'

'Her presence here is unavoidable,' Ben repeated heavily.

Hux pulled a blaster from a waist holster and placed it on the table. 'It won't be unavoidable if I shoot her. She murdered Supreme Leader Snoke. She put you on the throne, and now you bring her here – are you colluding with your mother's rebellion?'

Rey couldn't stop herself, the question was so ludicrous that she laughed. Everyone in the room, bar the guards, turned in her direction.

'The Resistance would never collaborate with him. I didn't put him in the throne, he did that himself. And I didn't kill...'

Ben gave her a tiny shake of his head and she pulled up short, glancing over at Hux. She'd already told him that she hadn't killed Snoke, and she thought it odd that he'd brought up the same accusation again, this time in front of a room full of people.

'You were saying?' he asked, and the way he said it made her flesh crawl.

A memory of Leia's warning about never showing weakness to an enemy came back to her and Rey shifted her attention to Ben again. This wasn't her weakness though, she had nothing to lose here by admitting she wasn't guilty of the previous incumbent's assassination. But she hesitated, and in the expectant pause she looked deep into the dark eyes of the man on the opposite side of the room.

She said, 'I killed Snoke, but I didn't put Kylo Ren on the throne. There was an explosion and I thought he was dead already or I wouldn't have left him alive. I don't want to be here any more than you want me here. The Resistance abandoned me because the two of us are linked together and I'm a liability to them. If you kill me, you'll probably kill him as well.'

From across the other side of the table, Ben winced slightly, and Rey knew she'd made a mistake.

'Well, we wouldn't want anything to happen to another Supreme Leader, would we?' Hux reholstered the blaster, but the threat in his words was apparent.

Rey gazed at Ben wide eyed, not entirely sure what kind of game she'd walked into and decided to keep her mouth shut for the remainder of the session.

'Let's move on, shall we?' Ben dismissed that interruption, addressed one of Hux's adjutants. 'Situation report on Merades?'

The man straightened. 'Half the slave colony has been released, but the camp commander feels that if the remainder are allowed to depart he will be unable to fulfil his quotas and the army supply lines will be impacted within three weeks.'

'My instructions were abundantly clear. We cannot create order across the galaxy if we do not have control. That slave complex has been a festering sore of rebellion for years. Snoke did nothing about it. I will. Release the slaves. Switch production to another facility, I don't care where, but close that colony down.' His fist hit the table hard enough to make the whole thing shake. 'I won't tell you again.'

There was a muttered 'Supreme Leader,' from the adjutant, and the Supreme Leader turned to another victim.

'Has the Catanova Cartel surrendered?'

'Yes, Supreme Leader. But the receivables department reports that our revenues will be down by a billion credits this period as a result.'

Ben waved a hand, 'Irrelevant. Target the Terrachin Junta next.'

There was more discussion, much more, about situations on systems, planets, tiny moons whose names Rey didn't recognise but the detail of which Ben seemed to know by heart, although he appeared disappointed with progress on everything. Standing there quietly, absorbing the information, Rey had the impression of an organisation in the throes of painful, grindingly slow change, which it was resisting to the best of its ability.

Ben's new order for the galaxy seemed to consist of starting from scratch with every entity with which the First Order had contact, in pursuit of obedience to its diktats. Conquered planets were offered freedom in return for payment of taxes and renewed self governance, with any rebellion punished with removal of the ruling hierarchy and a return to First Order occupation. Disorderly elements, smugglers, cartels, religious interest groups, free trade movements were to be eliminated since they disrupted the smooth running of intergalactic systems and processes. Slaves were to be freed if they had caused trouble in the past, as long as they agreed to fulfil the same tasks for pay and caused no further upset. There was no concept of freedom, the dictatorship operated by Snoke was intact, but it now had a more benevolent cast, or it would do if any of the reforms that had been set in motion were actually delivered.

In a time in which the Resistance had lost all its power and influence, Rey thought that even these small changes were a step in the right direction. The only thing that really worried her about how she'd spent her morning was the silence of General Hux, who seemed to be soaking up every order without actually commenting.

At length, the meeting concluded, and Rey trailed the Supreme Leader to the mess hall, where he ate on his own, flicking through a holopad, and she got to know the faces of the Praetorian Guard when they finally took off their helmets.

The afternoon consisted of hours and hours spent in the throne room, standing behind the chair where no one would notice her, while Ben saw a regular succession of petitioners, coming to declare their allegiance to the new First Order or complain about their treatment under it. He was surprisingly patient with them, reasonable almost, and he only really got angry with anyone who threatened or allowed rebellion in their territory. Any mention of the Resistance sent him into a fury, but most of the time he was calm.

After a while she sat on the floor, leaned her head back against the seat and imagined the lightsaber she would build, as soon as she had her leisure back. She wasn't entirely clear who she'd be fighting with it, right at the moment, but it was important to have one, nevertheless.

Behind her, Ben was talking to someone, and the sheer monotony of his voice when engaged in official communication had the same soporific effect on her that it had had before, and she drowsed into a light slumber.

It was a doze more than a dream she fell into. She was alone in the dark, lying flat on her back in the middle of the desert night, the wind singing though the loose metal joints of her shelter, its desolate howl remining her that only she was there to hear it. But then a hand touched her leg, and a warm patch of joy spread out from that touch until every part of her body was lit up by it, and she obeyed the tap of the finger on her thigh and opened wide.

This was how it was in the desert, cold and lonely with no one around to comfort her, no support for night after night until she could stand it no longer. Once or twice the emptiness inside her had driven her into town. She chose the men carefully, let them fill her up with their bodies and chase away the gap inside where family and friends and love should have been. This was a dream rather than a memory though, and it was different because the hand touching her leg didn't belong to a nameless stranger, but to a man she knew, a man who had an abundance of names from which to choose.

She let his fingers enter her, sighed to feel that human contact, so precious in her loneliness, and ached for more. She always wanted more, she wanted someone to come along and fill the void inside her so she wouldn't have to be alone, and if that began with fingers, then that was a good start. His fingers entered her, and the stretching didn't stop, as his hand followed the path his fingers had forged and she was blown wide around him, filled and owned and not alone.


	17. Chapter 17

Sitting on the throne, Kylo was having a bad day. He'd woken in pain, then rushed round to see Rey expecting to find her helpless on her bed, not wearing very much, only to have her parade around in front of him in just a towel. No matter where he looked the high shine on the walls and floor gave him a clear reflection of exactly what was underneath. He tried not to stare, attempted to enter a meditative state of complete and total calm, but his imagination shrieked at him to find a reason to call her over to where he was sitting, lift up that towel and taste her while she stood there, gasping.

He began the day with a raging hard-on, which only subsided at the sight of General Hux glaring at him across the table. Rey stared at him all through the meeting, and then she stared at him all through lunch, although she thought he didn't notice. He watched her eat out of the corner of his eye. Her lips opened to devour some unsuspecting morsel, and he determined that the pale pink hue they had on the outside was a much deeper colour within. Her tongue popped out a few times to lick her lips, the moistened tip stroking a delicate line around the soft bow of her mouth before disappearing back into the hidden space behind her teeth. She swallowed, and he noticed the movement of her throat as it bulged the graceful line of her neck. He felt himself rising again, just watching her eat, and decided that the only way to distract himself was to spend the whole afternoon where he couldn't see her.

He made her stand behind the throne, and after a while he heard the rustle as she sat down, and not long afterwards, a telltale snore. He knew that if he pushed that button in the arm of his chair, the throne would turn, and he'd find her face in his lap. He stopped hearing what the latest petitioner was trying to ask, and thought about that image instead. He knew that it was dangerous, aware that his fantasies had exclusively centred on bringing her to orgasm up to now, because imagining his own release would be a far more explosive proposition. Today though, his groin had developed the power to overrule the rest of his body and it took over.

He'd send the guards away, clear the room, but she wouldn't notice, because her eyes would be closed, as she leaned on the back of his seat, dozing. He'd push the button, and the chair would start moving, waking her up and by the time he'd turned in a circle to face her, she'd be kneeling, wide eyed and fully awake. He would shift a little, open his legs a fraction and her attention would be drawn to the fullness of his trousers, the way his cock strained the fabric. Her gaze would lift to his, questioning, and he'd use one finger to beckon her closer.

She wasn't shy, or nervous, and or afraid to see a man in the prime of his arousal, and her fingertips ran up his right leg, following the seam, until he felt the light brush as she touched him for the first time. She maintained eye contact, tracing his length through the material and the delicious hardening in his groin brought a gasp to his lips. She straightened up, and her fingers popped the catch on his trousers with ease. He was grateful that she had obviously done this before – he didn't want an inexperienced virgin fumbling around down there, he preferred a woman who liked the taste of a man's cock in her mouth.

Once he was free, Rey bent forward, her grip closing over the base of his shaft, her hand smaller than he remembered, straining around his girth. He looked into her eyes as she stroked her hand up to the moist pink head, already glistening and ready to be licked. She bent close, one hand rubbing him up and down, up and down, and her other hand crept lower, cupping his balls. He felt them tighten, contracting in her palm and she smiled slightly, bent her head and sucked him into her mouth.

Her skill was evident from that first entry. Her tongue laved the sensitive underside of his cock and her mouth held just the right amount of suction, her hand maintaining the rhythm, pumping away at him as her head began to move. He kept himself steady, resisted the urge to thrust forward into her mouth, contenting himself with placing a gentle hand on the back of her head. She seemed to enjoy that, taking a bit more of him in, sucking harder, filling her mouth with his cock as her lips stretched thin around it. He watched himself disappearing into her mouth, and the pressure he was exerting on her head increased, but she didn't stop, and patiently swallowed him down until the head of his cock was enclosed in the tight embrace of the back of her throat.

She bobbed her head, her nose buried in his pubic hair and his cock swelled again as he fucked her throat. The feeling was immense, tight and hot and slick, but the expression in her eyes was hotter still, the burn of desire apparent. Spit dribbled down her chin. Her breathing rasped though her nose. His hand clamped on the back of her head, and he yanked it forward, time and again, fucking her face to the accompaniment of strangled moans, groans of enjoyment and he could see the movement of his cock banging away in her mouth.

Her hand tightened on his balls and it was all over, he pulled back with a jerk, filling her mouth with his come, and there was so much of it, it spilled down her chin when he extracted himself from between her lips and she licked it off with muttered sounds of appreciation.

His gaze swam back into focus, and he was aware that an answer was expected from him, so he said, 'Granted,' and waved a hand munificently.

But his crotch was burning, his cock so hard it was painful and there was already a wet patch blossoming on the front of his trousers. His imagination had supplied an easy climax, but in real life he remained leaking and unfulfilled. Time and boredom would help it to pass, but as the minutes dragged on and there was no sign of the strain abating his mind began to turn to other solutions.

If he carried on like this, he'd be unable to reject Rey when the time came. She didn't even have to do anything, he was a throbbing mess and she was sitting behind his chair, fully clothed, saying nothing, her simple existence enough to trigger the crazed desire generated by the bond. He toyed with the buttons on the arm of the throne, thinking. There were ways of relieving this kind of tension on board, both living and mechanical, but the thought of anyone else wrapping their lips around his cock was unappealing. Hux might get to know about it, for one thing, Rey might get to know about it, for another, and that was a weakness he didn't want to expose to either of them. He made a decision, and the minute the final petitioner had left the audience chamber he marched smartly back to the Supreme Leader's private floor and locked himself into an exercise room.

This one was for a particular kind of exercise, and although he'd been shown it not long after taking over from Snoke, he'd never actually used it before. The room was dominated by a large bed, fitted out with restraints and harnesses of various kinds at every corner, and there was a large wipe clean couch opposite it, the back at a perfect waist height. Kylo wasn't interested in the array of equipment stored in the racks along the walls, the costumes lined up on hangars, the lotions and unguents and the various methods of contraception available. He carefully blanked out any thought of what this room might have been used for by the previous incumbent of the throne – all he was here for was the screen set into the far wall, the solitary chair in front of it, and the box of wipes he took from a cupboard.

He settled himself carefully, then sprang himself free from his trousers with a sigh of relief and attempted to get comfortable. The lights were too bright, so he dialled them down, the chair too upright so he tipped it back, and then he scrolled through the endless choice of pornography available, unable to choose what situation might be most effective. Selecting a scene quite similar to the one he'd been fantasising about in the throne room he lay back and took a firm grip with his right hand. The sensation was unfamiliar after so long, and as his fist tugged upwards, yanking the skin forward, it became uncomfortable as well.

He paused the recording, fetched lubricant, slicked up his hand and tried again. The pain was gone, but the sliding motion felt messy and too wet, so he attempted to wipe the colourless gel off again. He closed his eyes, concentrated, starting over, but the exaggerated groans of the man on the screen rapidly annoyed him and he clicked the sound off. There was a beep behind him and he sprang out of the chair, convinced that the door was opening, and he was about to be caught in the act. The door was still locked but he checked it again, just to be sure. Sitting back down he dimmed the lights further, so that if anyone did happen to burst in in all they would see was darkness.

He restarted the recording, watched it impassively for a while but it did nothing to either increase or cool his ardour and disappointed, he switched it off. He took a tight grip on his cock, the skin heated and taut, blood pulsing vigorously just under the surface. It felt wrong though. He tugged himself a few times, but the unease he felt grew, and the sensation that filled him was shame, rather than pleasure. He attempted to conjure the dreams he'd had of Rey, but she wasn't close enough to trigger another epic fantasy and he was simply alone in the dark. He sat there, struggling with frustration and embarrassment and the erection simply withered away in his hand, leaving him with all of the desire, and none of the capability.

It was anger that saved him. It was always anger that saved him – maintaining such self control required the occasional outlet and so when the rage came, he never held it back. It was the release valve that allowed him to function. Snoke's hold over his mind was still strong, even though his master was simply ashes, drifting through space. The fear of humiliation Snoke had instilled in his apprentice, the lesson that sex was a weakness to be mocked and ridiculed was one that Kylo had learned too well.

Standing, he tucked himself away, unclipped his lightsaber from his belt, and then as the rage sparked behind his eyes, he smashed every single item in the room.

When the list of visitors was exhausted Ben was off his chair immediately, disappearing into an exercise room for several hours, emerging red and faced and sweaty to bid her a brief goodnight.

She turned in the direction of her chamber, dreading the end of that journey, and the help she'd need in reaching it, but was directed to a door immediately in front of her instead. This room was almost identical to her previous quarters, but much larger, and since she could still walk, it must be much closer to wherever Ben was right at that moment.

She kicked off her boots, sat cross-legged on the bed with the book, the crystal and a pad and began to design a new weapon. Something in the room beeped, but she ignored it, because most of the ship seemed programmed to beep or flash at regular intervals, only looking up when she realised Ben was hovering over her left shoulder, eyeing the drawing critically.

The Force bond lobbed its usual ball of happiness for her to catch, her heart lurching in her chest as she recognised that the soft pants and short sleeved top he was dressed in were for sleeping.

'The workshop on Level 16 can help you forge the casing when you're finished, although it looks too short in the grip.'

She flicked off the pad, gave him a sour stare.

He held out a small leather bag. 'The tools you need are quite specialised. You can borrow mine. Here.'

She took the package, tossed it onto the bed. 'Why are you helping me? Why go all the way to that planet to get me a new kyber crystal? What do you want?'

He frowned. 'Why are you helping me? Why do you care if I walk into an ambush or not? Why lie for me about killing Snoke? Why are you protecting me?'

'It's in my interest to keep you alive. It can't be in your interest to help me rebuild a weapon I'm going to end up killing you with.'

He snorted. 'You can try, if you like. But I don't think you have it in you to kill me. You didn't before, you won't now. This,' he pointed a finger between the two of them. 'Is personal.'

'It isn't,' she snapped.

He put out a hand, cupped her cheek. 'It is.'

Her skin came alive under his touch, sent a tingling shiver across her nerves that ran through her body like Force lightning, dangerous, electrifying. It left her breathless, with an obvious blush on her face, and more privately, with an uncomfortable ache between her legs.

She knocked his hand away. 'Make time in your diary tomorrow for us to go to the library and work out how to break the bond. Then I'll show you how personal it is.'

'Fine. I can fit you in between freeing slaves and bringing order to the galaxy. Don't you have anything to say about what you saw today, by the way?'

She shrugged. 'It's not the 'new order' I'd have chosen, but it's a good start.'

'A good start? That's all?' He sounded incredulous.

She raised her chin. 'You'll be dead before you achieve any of it.'

His finger came up, a prelude to shouting, but he turned on his heel instead, and disappeared through a doorway that beeped shut behind him.

By the time he had made it back to his bedroom after the exercise room his breathing had slowed and he was back in control. He felt much clearer, calmer as he stood under the hot water in the fresher, washing away the frustrations of the day. He wanted to blame Rey, the temptation was strong within him, but a more rational part of his brain told him that she had done nothing to trigger the crisis of his afternoon, and he should look elsewhere for a target. There was one satisfaction she could give him though, she'd now spent a whole day at the heart of his new First Order, and he was interested to find out whether she was already regretting refusing to join him. He savoured the thought that she might already have determined that she'd been wrong to reject him and might be about to beg him to let her stay.

With that thought in mind he didn't trouble to get properly dressed, just slung on something comfortable from the wardrobe and hurried into the room next door. Afterwards, he wished he hadn't bothered. Rey was clearly deeply in love with him, she spent her time looking for opportunities to defend him against any threat, she couldn't take her eyes off him for long periods of time, and whenever he touched her she nearly climaxed, but she appeared to be determined to deny this fact to his face. This time she went as far as rejecting not just him, but everything he was trying to do and when he threw himself into bed, he was as angry and frustrated as he'd spent the majority of his day.


	18. Chapter 18

Rey had to go and wash her face because, even some minutes after he'd left, her cheek still carried the imprint of his fingers like he'd marked her in some fundamental way. She frowned at her face in the mirror, cursing the stupid overreaction of her body to his touch, and the calculating Sith who had caused it. Whatever Ben might think, whatever implication he read into the fact that she hadn't killed him when she had the chance, and that she'd spiked a trap set for him, and lied for him since she came on board, whatever incorrect assumption he'd come to, this wasn't personal.

Granted, she'd found it hard to let go of the Ben she'd met on Ahch-To, and now she knew more about his background she understood Kylo Ren a bit more too, but that didn't mean she had feelings for him. It didn't mean that the fact that her day brightened the minute he appeared was real, that was just the artificial bond between them manufacturing emotions that weren't there.

The sympathy and compassion that softened the anger she'd felt were a natural response to her knowledge of the suffering he'd endured, but she'd have felt the same about anyone in that position. It wasn't personal.

He'd made it clear that any attachment he might have felt had died when he'd asked her to join him, and she'd wanted to slay him instead. The only thing personal about this whole situation was the fact that she was paralysed without him, at least for now.

She was up and dressed long before a blaring alarm sounded in her quarters and all the lights switched on at full brightness the following morning, an alarm she'd neither set nor needed. She was waiting when he swept through one of the many doors in her new suite, snapped one word- 'library' – and then marched out again.

She followed him and the crimson tide down the corridor until it washed them up amidst the combined lore of the Sith, and she resumed flicking through storage devices while he disappeared off into the stacks. After an hour or two she thought she'd finally come across something that might be useful and sought out his hiding place, holding out a pad.

'This one is a history of the Sith – there's a reference to the creation of bridges between minds being part of a ritual. It doesn't say what for but given the rest of the book I'd hazard a wild guess at killing people.'

'This one,' he lifted a finger, and a giant paper-based monolith drifted off the shelf behind him and hovered in mid-air. 'Under the section on blood rites – which goes on for seven hundred and twenty-three entries, all about blood – includes a mention of the 'force bond ritual' and is cross referenced to Sith lightning.'

She frowned, 'Well these,' gesturing with one hand brought an enormous collection of holocrons obediently from their shelves some way away. 'Which are Snoke's diaries, are absolutely full of rituals. He seems to have carried out some kind of ritual every ten minutes, maybe we should look for one involving blood?'

'He kept diaries?'

'You're not in them.' Not in these ones anyway, she thought. The rest of them were hidden in her room and the recordings of his training had all been destroyed.

'You've read them?'

'Not every word.'

'I'll take a look.' His hand waved, and the cubes formed an orderly pile on the floor behind him.

'You won't have time. You'll be too busy freeing slaves.' She raised her eyebrows and the cubes reordered themselves into a neat pile behind her instead.

'I can delegate that.' The cubes flew past her ear so fast there was a breeze.

'To Hux? He's planning a coup.'

'I realise that. I'm not stupid. I can deal with him.'

She put her hands on her hips. 'You're not doing a very good job so far. He's making you very unpopular. '

'I don't need people to like me.'

'So you've said. But this new order of yours will fail if no one but you supports it. The army thinks you killed Snoke, because Hux was all over Holonet the other day denying it, so everyone will think it's true. I don't imagine that would necessarily matter if they thought you were going to be a strong leader but I'll bet they don't. That recording of you on Crait was leaked by the First Order and I'm guessing everyone in the army has seen it now, one way or another. Then there was that holo of you falling over on stage and Hux giving a speech for you. That was widely publicised, but not by the Resistance. I'm guessing Hux is using the media to destabilise you. I'll bet he's capitalising on me being here to suggest you're a traitor. He's letting you make some tweaks around the edges of the regime, so he can claim you're working with me and the Resistance and then he'll depose you. If no one will believe you're a traitor he can just claim you're ill and take over that way. And none of the impressive things you're doing – destroying cartels, releasing conquered planets, rebuilding Chandrila – none of those things are going to get the publicity they deserve, so you'll get no support from outside the Order either.

That's why I said you'll be dead before you can finish any of the things you've started. Not by my hand, it'll be someone else.'

She watched emotions flash across his face, moved by how sad it was that that face was always more apt to anger, hurt and upset than it was to laughter.

Finally, he settled on, 'So what do you suggest I do?'

That wasn't the reaction she'd expected, but she had an answer ready. 'I know you think that 'actions matter, not words', but sometimes words matter too. Take control of Holonet, put out the message that you want, to the army and everyone else. They don't have to like you, but you do need their respect. And we need to get rid of Hux, sooner rather than later.'

He nodded, and for an instant there was a hint of that innocent boy about him again, so young, so hopeful. 'We?' he asked.

'You,' she corrected hastily. 'I'm not helping you or anything.'

But she remembered that expression long after it had faded.

She found it impossible just to stand and watch though. He called a meeting with the First Order's communications team and Rey attempted to stay in line with the guards along the back wall and not say anything, but after a while, it was too hard. She'd spent too long flicking though news channels when she was incapacitated not to know how this should be done. A discussion about the right kind of publicity shot finally drove her off the wall.

'No, no, no. You don't need any more glossy shots of the Supreme Leader looking patrician. The only thing I've seen him do since he took charge is stand on stage giving great big speeches to thousands of people. If you want to get your point across you're going to have to do something more personal. An interview with just the Supreme Leader, somewhere informal, giving your vision for the First Order.'

She tried to step back again but Ben was giving her a confused look, and she sighed.

'Just tell them what you told me. You're leaving the past behind and creating a new order. Concentrate on all the things that were wrong – the mutiny among the slaves that was never dealt with, the fact that the Resistance managed to infiltrate and destroy Starkiller Base, the loss of all your troops on board that Dreadnaught. I'm sure you can think of more. You need to suggest that all of them were Snoke's fault, but don't blame him outright, just suggest it. Then set out what you're going to change. You're instituting the rule of law cross the galaxy, destroying pirates and smugglers and protection rackets. Don't mention that you seem to be funded by them. Focus on order, armies love order. We'll need to follow up that interview with a change in the messaging. If I were you, I'd have one of your best reporters in on the progress meetings, like the one I went to yesterday and ask them to write up every development. Make sure people know what you're doing.'

She was warming to her theme now.

'If you want to go further, you could target the news network outside Holonet which is most favourable to you and give them an exclusive interview with Kylo Ren. Feed the others some smaller positive stories – get them to report live when you smash that cartel, for example.'

This was the sort of thing she could have done for the Resistance if Leia had taken her seriously and not just made Rey responsible for guarding her son. That gave her another idea.

'Then I think we should address that holo of Crait head on. You must have footage of when our cruiser took out your warship. Open with that, then explain a bit about how dangerous the Resistance is, and I'd play up the importance of the Jedi, and the danger that the last of them posed to the First Order. Then I'd cut straight to the Supreme Leader here, striding down the ramp of his ship looking intimidating, - I'm thinking inspiring music, or maybe some kind of drumbeat, then into the fight. You'll nee a voiceover about how cowardly Luke was in not appearing in person and I'd cut it just as he vanishes. That should make the point.'

She pulled her eyes back into focus, to find the rest of the room staring at her. Ben raised an eyebrow.

'Too much?' she asked.

'You sound like you're working for me.'

She bared her teeth in a humourless smile. 'Well, you did ask me to join you.'

'Leave us.' With a flick of his head at the door he sent the communications officers away, then bent forward across the table behind which he sat, fixing her with a very direct stare.

'I didn't want you to work for me.' His voice was soft, gentle almost. 'I told you how I felt about you. I asked you to join me and I offered you my hand.'

Her humourless smile was succeeded by a humourless laugh, full of scorn. He'd made it sound like some kind of marriage proposal.

'You wanted me to conquer the galaxy with you. You were expecting me to turn to the dark side, to become just like you.'

His gaze was steady, hard. 'That might be what you heard, but it wasn't what I said.' He took a deep breath, exhaled slowly. 'Would you mind waiting outside please, I have some work to do.' It wasn't a request.

He needed a moment to think. He wasn't concerned by the fact that she'd come up with an entire communications strategy based on the fact that she'd watched Holonet a couple of times, but he was touched by her support for what he was doing with the First Order. She'd called some of it 'impressive'. She wanted to get rid of Hux. She was on his side – she'd said 'we'.

This morning he'd sat in his chair and listened to her, but mostly he'd just stared. Her eyes sparkled when she spoke, she was animated, enthusiastic, in control of the room and all of it was on his behalf. He didn't recall the last time anyone had tried to support him and it made him feel warm somehow. It wasn't sexual, he didn't want to throw her onto the table and fuck her senseless, this was something else, something with less of a physical dimension. Of course, he understood that all of this was coming from her love for him, but he found himself struggling to disparage that.

He liked having her on his side, it made a big impression and he didn't really want to brush it off. He liked her support, he liked her love and more than a small part of him wanted it to continue.

Once he'd sent her out, he thought about that in a bit more detail. He'd had feelings for her once, had tried to tell her what they were, but now he considered it, standing in a throne room strewn with dead bodies might not actually have been the best time. From the look on her face during that last exchange it appeared she hadn't realised what he was asking when he'd said 'join me'. In fact, from the look on her face it appeared that only now was she beginning to understand.

She clumped into the corridor, finding it difficult to understand what work he was going to do in an empty toom, on his own, and stood obediently, feeling like a naughty child.

She had not been proposed to by Kylo Ren, the suggestion was ridiculous. He must have meant something else. She replayed her memory of that moment in her head. It also didn't appear to contain any explicit reference to his asking her to turn to the dark side for him, the most he'd said was that he thought she was going to turn and stand with him, and he might just have meant away from the Resistance. Then he'd held out his hand and said please. She brushed that particular vision off. It wasn't a proposal, but she couldn't stop thinking about it. He said that he wouldn't ask twice, and she was just beginning to realise that he'd even asked once.

A black clad figure swept out of the room she'd vacated without a glance, and she fell into step at the back of the red train, stationing herself with them in the conference room while the other military officials arrived one by one.

Was it possible he had some kind of deep personal feeling for her? She didn't think so. But everything she knew about him told her he was lonely. She'd trailed him round yesterday and he hadn't spoken to a single person about anything not related to work. He'd lost his family, maybe he didn't have any friends either.

She realised belatedly that everyone in the room was looking at her, and that General Hux was standing next to a chair he'd pulled out from the table, having evidently just addressed her. Rey sat down in it automatically, Hux waving a lackey out of the next one along and seating himself beside her. She worried at the cloth of her trousers.

That was what they had in common after all, wasn't it? That was what had drawn her to him in the first place. Compassion, and loneliness. She was lonely, and he'd recognised that, reached out to her from the same place. But could that kinship that she'd felt, the feeling that had impelled her across space to throw herself into danger for him, could that have developed so quickly into something far stronger?

She was conscious that once again, the room had fallen silent and she glanced up, finding dark eyes gleaming at her. 'General Hux asked if there is a Resistance base on the planet of Thine, Rey.'

She flapped a hand. 'Never heard of it.'

Her fingernail flicked at the smooth metal of the underside of the table. What had he been asking for then, when he'd said, 'join me?' What would have happened if she'd said yes? She'd have made more progress on the new order than he'd achieved, for a start, and she wouldn't have allowed all these people to sit around day after day disobeying the Supreme Leader's orders and dragging their heels. She'd have done things differently. And at the end of the day, when the meeting was over, what would have happened then? How far would 'join me' have gone? Join me on the throne? Join me in my bed? Join me in the rest of my life?'

She swallowed hard, saw she'd missed another cue. 'General Hux asked you if there is a Resistance presence on Ventara, Rey,' Ben explained patiently.

She found she couldn't look him in the eye, turned to Hux instead. 'I don't know where any of the rebel bases are. As soon as his mother,' she nodded at the other end of the table. 'Realised he could see where I was at any time of the day or night she basically confined me to my room, and then dumped me here. That's why he –' she jerked her head - 'decided not to interrogate me. I don't know anything.'

And if 'join me' had meant the rest of her life would she have stayed here? Would this ship have become her home, these people her friends? She didn't think so. She was born to wide open spaces, and freedom, not the sharp lines and sharp uniforms of the First Order. But creating a new world might have been a good purpose, she might have achieved something here.

And deep down, she recognised the weakness Ben had already seen – that she would do anything to be loved. If he had offered her his love, would she have stayed?

'What are you thinking about?'

She glanced up, her attention straying to the unexpectedly empty seats now filling the rest of the room. Instead of blurting out 'love' her mouth came up with 'Exercise. I need to run.'

He nodded, and didn't push for a proper answer.

Thank you to everyone who has read this story so far, it means a lot to me. There will now be a short summer break and I'll be back soon.


	19. Chapter 19

The exercise suite was just down the hall, a large room with different zoned sections, full of machinery, weights and open spaces covered in mats.

'I need to change,' he informed her, and she turned her face to the wall. There were rustling noises behind her, the slap of heavy clothing hitting tile, but she didn't look round. In fact, she found that both walls and floor were polished to a mirror finish and if she stared hard enough she got a good view of his naked chest, and not long afterwards, of his naked legs.

She headed for the running machine the minute he'd finished, selecting a programme that would mimic running through a desert, the holographic images blocking out the rest of the room. She didn't bother to change her clothes, exercise was designed to help her stay alive, and if she got into trouble, she wouldn't have time to slip into more flexible shoes and a stretchy top before having to fight or run away.

She began at a quick pace, conscious only of the slippery dunes beneath her feet, the hot breath of wind, the lick of the sun on her forehead, and the succession of grunts from behind her. It was quite offputting.

She ran until her head cleared and she'd stopped imagining him doing things other than lifting weights. Then she ran until she'd convinced herself that everything that had happened since he put his hand on her cheek was all generated by the Force bond and therefore completely fake. She ran until she was innocent again. Whatever feelings he might have for her, and whatever feelings she might have for him weren't real, weren't her fault and weren't within her power to control.

She stepped off the running machine not yet tired, began exploring the cupboards along each wall, eventually locating two long wooden staffs and hovering next to Ben hopefully. He eyeballed her but didn't stop until he'd finished whatever programme he followed and then took the proffered staff without a word. She fought him the same way she'd always fought him – to win, even though there wasn't much damage she could do, and he fought back just as fiercely, that competitive streak still strong within him.

After a while, she panted, 'How much longer?'

He executed a tumbling roll as if to demonstrate his lack of fatigue. 'We can stop whenever you want.'

She shook her head. 'Until you can't keep your hands off me?'

His frown was severe, but the moment of distraction allowed her to land a few heavy blows. 'At the moment I'm having no problem with that whatsoever.'

She feinted to the left, ending up almost pressed against his chest because he'd tried the same trick on her, and her hand streaked out to cup his face. The effect was instantaneous. The staff dropped from his fingers, hit the floor with a clatter and rolled away, his eyes stretched wide, the pupils dilating as his body came to a complete stop and she heard his breath stutter and still in his lungs. The shudder that ran through him was so powerful she could see as well as feel it, and a dark flush spread across his skin, radiating outwards from her touch.

'How about now?' she asked, and her voice, so unusually low and husky, gave an indication of the impact of the same touch on her.

He closed his eyes, wrenched his head away with an effort.

She said, 'This isn't real. However this feels to you, whatever you really meant when you asked me to join you, it isn't real. It isn't personal.'

Then she attempted a purposeful exit, although just outside the door her legs faltered, and she had to be carried the short distance to her room by two red coated flunkeys. She had to get away, no matter what the cost.

The sense of connection when they touched was overwhelming, a tide of desire, hot and heavy seeping though her veins and carrying her blood and her thoughts south every time she brushed his skin. She understood what he meant when he said he wouldn't be able to keep his hands off her. Very soon now, she'd be hard pressed to resist him as well. But she didn't have to like it or mistake the lustful cravings of her body for some kind of perverse declaration of love. He didn't love her - it simply wasn't credible - and she didn't love him either. It was very important that she remember that.

She refused to leave her room for the rest of the day, and he didn't disturb her.

She was infuriating, he decided, pacing the confines of his bedroom because she was sulking in hers and he couldn't move without her. She'd spent most of the morning lost in thought, and when she'd finally come to some sort of decision and exploded into action again, she'd put her hands on him and he'd wanted to strip all her clothes off and take her right there on the floor. His cock twitched at the memory of that touch, and he walked more quickly to take his mind off it. It wasn't real, she was right about that, the overwhelming lust part of it was created by the bond between them but the rest of it? The feelings he'd had since he met her in the forest? The emotions Snoke had read in his heart so easily? Those feelings were real, and very, very personal. It was a good thing he no longer felt that way. It was a good thing that he was immune to her since she'd rejected him or he might have gone into her bedroom and throttled her where she lay for rejecting him again, no matter what the consequences.

As it was, she was just beginning to realise what she'd lost, and he needed to give her time to understand that. She was interested in what he was trying to do with the First Order, her enthusiasm in the communications meeting told him that, and she was thinking about joining him in a way she hadn't done before. This was like any negotiation, if she wasn't interested she could just walk away, although in this case she wouldn't get very far. She could refuse to engage though, refuse to speak to him or follow him round, but somehow he didn't think she'd take that option. Whether she thought his feelings were real or not, she was in too deep now. There was no going back. All she needed was one more push.

She spent the next morning sprawled on her bed idly writing articles for Holonet, finalising the design of her new lightsaber and arranging to have it made and then watching in fascination as a new, more intimate interview with the Supreme Leader was broadcast just as she'd finished her lunchtime meal.

He was carefully arranged in a comfortable looking chair, arms and legs positioned to give the impression of informality, although she suspected that was also part of the design. In the background was a table, holding a collection of bottles, a floor to ceiling panel dividing one part of the room from the other, and behind it, the edge of a bed. He spoke very earnestly and at some length about the past, the building of the Order under Snoke and the challenges it had encountered. Then he went on to explain his strategy for a new order and the immediate steps necessary to accomplish it. In short, he did exactly as she'd told him to, and as soon as he'd finished, the pieces she'd been working on during the morning began to appear as news items, complete with hastily pulled together statistics, stock footage and some perfunctory interviews. The communications team had clearly taken her advice to heart and she didn't know whether to be proud or horrified.

She found it hard to sleep that night, worrying helping Ben meant betraying the Resistance and the doze she fell into was punctuated by nightmares.

When she woke in the morning her feet were dead and cold. She stared at them in disbelief, finding that once again, she had to make use of her staff in order to stand and hobble to the fresher. With an effort, and the extensive use of a chair she managed to dress herself, the sensation only returning when the beeping door hissed open to reveal a hollow eyed, pale Supreme Leader who seemed unable to straighten to his full height until he'd crossed most of the distance towards her.

She raised an eyebrow.

'Bad night,' he explained.

The briefing room was already full when they arrived, ready for another round of questions and not enough answers but instead of allowing Hux to give up his seat Ben simply glowered at the adjutant directly opposite him until the seat was vacated and then motioned her into it.

The first item was a complicated dispute over tribute, which another planet was refusing to pay. Rey didn't contribute to the debate, silent and watching as Ben suggested compromise after compromise and the regional governor responsible for that system argued for decisive military action as a way of eliminating the problem.

Eventually Ben pushed back from the table slightly and Rey could tell he'd had enough. 'Alright, if you really think that's the only way to discourage other systems from adopting the same position then go back in. Take two battalions, enforce order, but then withdraw and see if they reconsider their position.'

'Why bother?' The words slipped out before she was aware she'd spoken.

He fixed her with an assessing gaze but didn't rebuke her for opening her mouth. 'Because I want obedience, and I don't want a permanent garrison confined to that planet for longer than necessary. Do you have something to add?'

'From what I've heard,' she began slowly, unsure of the ethics of offering any suggestion that might help. 'This planet is complaining because they think the amount of tax you want from them is unfair. But presumably you've worked that out based on some logical valuation. Instead of dealing with this as a problem for this planet, shouldn't you be thinking more strategically, as a Supreme Leader should? Just publish your explanation of how you calculate tax and make sure it's consistent for every planet in the galaxy. Then everyone can see what they have to pay and it's all fair.'

'I assume we've already done that.' Ben glanced around the room, his gaze lighting on one person after another who wouldn't look him in the eye. 'It appears not. Hux, find someone good at finance and make it happen. Next on the agenda is the Merades slave issue again.'

Rey rolled her eyes. 'For goodness sake. Just release all your slaves. It can't be cost effective and it's certainly not conducive to order. Buy what you need instead, you've clearly got plenty of credits.'

Ben sat back in his chair, put his chin on his fist and gave her a hard look. 'The Terrachin Junta - how would you deal with them?'

Rey had no attention for anyone else in the room. 'I wouldn't. I'd take a more high level approach. The problem you have is that you wiped out the New Republic, which was a government, and you've replaced it with the First Order, which is an army. These cartels, and the pirates and the smugglers, the arms dealers and the drug runners and the people traffickers, they're all trying to make money by getting around the law. What is the law you're trying to impose here?'

'Martial law.'

She shook her head. 'That's not an answer. How can you tackle crime, when you don't have any idea what's against the law? You destroyed the Republic, now you need to replace it.'

'With what?'

'A government, not a rabble.'

Are you suggesting the First Order is undisciplined?'

'I'm suggesting the people in this room don't obey you.'

'And how would you deal with that?'

She considered. 'Start again. Promote on the basis of ability and loyalty.'

'And then?'

'Assign roles. Foreign policy, domestic policy, law and order, finance.'

'And then?'

'Create order. Keep the peace.'

'How?'

'Democracy.'

He raised an eyebrow. 'Democracy is disagreement, not order. Are you enjoying this?'

She raised an eyebrow back. 'Very much.'

'You should have joined me when you had the chance.'

'You never ask twice?'

He inclined his head. 'Never.'

'Why not?'

The silence went on so long she stopped noticing it. There were light brown flashes in his eyes she'd never seen before, flecks of a paler hue that leavened the darkness of his irises and made them shine. This man loves me, she thought. He wanted me to stay with him, always. He loves me.

Hux cleared his throat. Ben turned back to the rest of the room and jabbed a finger at one after the other. 'You, you, you – you're no longer on this council. Leave.'

There was some muttering, and Rey found it disturbing that most of the people at whom Ben had pointed looked to Hux for permission to depart, and it was only at his nod that they pulled back their chairs. Four officers were still sitting at the table when the door closed, along with herself and the Supreme Leader and down the other end, Hux. She tried to shake her head inconspicuously, but Ben wasn't looking in her direction and he faced the General with an air of satisfaction.

'You too, Hux. You're no longer required here. You've been replaced.'

The slicked back soldier didn't react, and his oily demeanour appeared undisturbed. 'By her?' he asked calmly.

'No,' Rey shot out, in case Ben was harbouring this idea.

'No,' he answered, rather more slowly. 'The army will report directly to me from now on. What Rey has pointed out today – that you are insubordinate, arrogant, self important and actively working against the order I am trying to create - is something I've known for a long time. You are also irrelevant now. I don't need you anymore. You are decommissioned, dismissed, no longer part of the chain of command, or of the army, or of the First Order. Get your things and leave. Take more than five minutes and I'll throw you out of the nearest airlock myself.'

The sense of unease in Rey's chest grew stronger as Hux stood, flicked a smart salute and exited the chamber with a clicking of heels.

'I don't think that was a good idea,' she said.

He silenced her with a look. 'Now, you four. You are all promoted.' He accompanied his words with finger jabs. 'You're in charge of expansion, I want the Order to control the whole galaxy in six weeks. You, internal organisation, administration, set up a government. You, you're judiciary, work out what laws we need and you, do finance. I expect a report back here tomorrow on your recommendations in each area. Dismissed.'

The room emptied, but the worried expressions on the faces of Ben's new executive made Rey equally worried. 'Are you sure you're doing the right thing?' she enquired, breaking the silence after a while.

He sighed heavily. 'That very much depends on you.' He reached out and pulled a discarded screen towards him, tapped away at it for a few minutes and then slid it across the table. 'I've given you access to all of Hux's files, communications, projects, daily tasks. Tell me what I need to do next.'

She pushed it away with a fingernail. 'I told you, I'm not replacing Hux. I'm not a general.'

He chuckled, but there was no humour behind it. 'I'd never make you a general. I'm in charge, but if you want to have any influence over what happens next, give me some advice. If you don't care what happens to the galaxy, just sit there and watch, it's up to you.'

She considered that for a minute, before pulling the screen towards her. It wouldn't hurt to see how the army worked from the inside, the information might be useful to the Resistance if she ever went back, and the idea of having some kind of control was more than a little attractive. It demonstrated his trust, and that was more trust than General Organa had ever shown her. Browsing the archive spread out in front of her and trying to find a way in she gave the most obvious advice she could.

'You did the right thing in letting Hux go – I think there would have been trouble if you'd killed him, and it makes you look magnanimous, but now you need to discredit him before he raises a rebellion against you. I suggest you say you caught him working for the Resistance. I could probably get your mother to give an interview with that message if I sent her some of the files on here.' She typed in the commands. 'Oh. No external access? I can't contact my friends?'

He worked on his own screen for a second, flashed her a look. 'Of course not. Not until you decide where your loyalties lie.'

'My loyalties lie with the Resistance.'

'Of course they do.' But he didn't sound convinced.

She tried to find a way around the block he'd put on her access for the rest of the day, but it appeared that while she could smash her way through hardware, the Force wasn't much use in managing software and, unable to find a route through the restrictions he'd created, she tried to learn as much about Hux's job as possible.

The extent of the man's power was formidable. For all intents and purposes, it was clear that Hux was the First Order. The instructions might come from above, but he was responsible for implementing them, and now, if she was to take advantage of what Ben was offering, she might have inherited that same authority. She wanted to reject it, to push away the screen and all it meant, but she found that the opportunity she held in her hands was… tempting. If she had this much power she could make real changes, she could mould the regime any way she wanted, give advice that might make the galaxy a better place. This must be partly what he had meant by 'join me' and for the first time there was a squirm of doubt inside her that she'd made the right choice in turning him down.

Ben worked beside her silently, so focused on whatever it was he was doing that he never so much as looked in her direction. She spent her time reading and sneaking swift glances at him from beneath her eyelashes. The influence he was offering her was tempting but she knew it wasn't just a shot at power that kept her gnawing at her lower lip and hesitating. Rationally, she knew that he didn't love her, none of this was real, but sometimes as she watched him work she found herself wishing that it was. That look in his eyes earlier had been so very convincing. She could feel the old desire to be wanted alight within her and this feeling he seemed to have for her, as fake, strained and manufactured as it must be, was tempting, more tempting than power.

It was only when she was back in her room at the end of the day that she saw the broadcasts now all over Holonet. Somehow, Ben had mocked up a facsimile of Poe, which spoke a few snatched phrases in which it said how lucky the Resistance was to have been joined by Armitage Hux, and was quite realistic, despite the brevity. The reward placed on the General's head was astronomical, enough to attract every bounty hunter in the galaxy into tracking down the First Order deserter and bringing him back in a sack. Ben had followed her advice almost to the letter.

She tried to sleep, but it wouldn't come. Her eyes stayed resolutely open and the creeping ice slipped its stealthy way up from her feet, pawing over her ankles, paralysing her calves. There was no way of knowing how far it would have spread by morning – maybe she would no longer be able to move, maybe she wouldn't be able to breathe. Fear twisted in her belly. The remedy was close at hand. Next door Ben would be in bed, sleeping, and he might not even notice if she simply sneaked in. At least that way she'd still be alive to wake up in the morning.

The call came in the middle of the night, as he knew it would. He breathed deeply, still strung out in the meditative calm he was using to keep the pain at bay. He hadn't slept, because the bond was turning its screws again, despite the fact that Rey was only in the next room, but he'd been lying in wait since she'd turned in several hours ago.

The call came again, a beep at the door signalling that someone was knocking. The lock was engaged, because he was meticulous about making sure he was alone, but he'd still checked it before slipping under the covers because he guessed she'd be paralysed and probably panic about it.

The door beeped again, but he wasn't about to get out of bed to answer it. He knew what he had to do.

There was no further warning, just the shriek of metal on metal as the door was forced open and light from the opposite side spilled in to his darkness, outlining the figure crossing the threshold.

She was wearing that shapeless red shift again, and with the illumination behind her the thin material had become translucent, and he could see every line and curve of her body.

He yanked the sheet up to his chest and rolled onto his side. 'I don't want you in here,' he stated, in case she was in any doubt.

'Neither of us has a choice,' she replied, and the staff banged on the floor, the drag of her feet following behind. 'Do you have a couch?'

Another step, and the staff clattered to the ground, the slap of her bare feet across his shiny tile steady as his proximity allowed her to regain her ability to walk and she drew closer to where he lay.

'No couch.'

'I know you have a chair. I saw it on the recording you put out on Holonet yesterday.'

'That was a prop. There are no chairs.'

'A rug? A blanket? Anything I can sleep on that isn't your bed?'

'I don't want you in here,' he repeated, just for good measure.

'Then you should have bought a couch. You must have seen this coming. If I sleep next door I might not be able to breathe by morning and I'm not willing to take that chance.'

There was steel in her voice, she'd clearly convinced herself that she had no choice but to sleep in his room, and she didn't understand that now he had her exactly where he wanted her. She had been suckered in by the brilliance of his plan, the subtlety with which he had manipulated her. He felt the tug of the sheet as she lifted it, the dip of the mattress on the other side of the bed, the faint rustle as her legs shifted under the covers.

'Don't touch me,' she said firmly, and then her breathing slowed as she feigned sleep in a very unconvincing manner.

But he wasn't listening to her words, they'd stopped being important some time ago, it was only her actions that mattered. She'd put herself in danger for him, she'd protected him. She'd joined the First Order for him, although she probably didn't realise it yet. And now she was in his bed. It was time to make her feel the same way he felt. It was time to give her a taste of the rejection he'd endured his entire life. He lay there and thought about it, every time he'd been ignored, cast out, looked at with suspicion, avoided, every hurt, every slight he would make her pay for, this stupid woman who loved him.

There was no question of sleep, his training had ensured it was impossible for him to let his guard down enough to become that vulnerable in front of anyone else so instead he settled himself to wait. He would hear the tentative slide of her small hand beneath the sheet, feel the brush of her fingers on his chest, sense the breath caught in her throat, any moment now. Focus. Concentration. Patience.

His eyes snapped open abruptly, the utter darkness of his bedroom giving no clue as to what was going on. He'd fallen asleep, that was the first thing he realised and the second thing he realised, the second thing…Rey was in his arms.

Specifically, his left arm was under her head, her cheek pressed into his bicep. Her arm had been draped across his back and his knee was inserted between her legs, her thigh raised over his, locking him in. But his other hand was in the most compromising position, scratchy fabric brushed the back of it, and the palm was planted securely over Rey's naked backside. Where the merest brush of her skin had triggered intense and explicit fantasies in the past, now that she was in his arms the blood rushed to his cock so fast he felt dizzy. He sucked in a breath through his nose, attempting not to disturb her, wondering if there was any way out of this without waking her up. From the minute she'd knocked on his door, he had fully expected to find himself in an embarrassing position with her, but he hadn't anticipated that position would involve such an enormous erection. He was supposed to be focused and in control, not jutting into her belly every time he exhaled.

It was with some dismay that he realised her breathing wasn't that of someone unconscious of their situation – her respiration was fast and shallow, far too quick to belong to deep and unbroken slumber. She was already awake.

He took a firm grip on himself, in a metaphorical sense – there was nothing he could do to disguise the obvious attraction of his body – and prepared to do what he knew he must, what he had been plotting for and preparing to do since the first time she came to him, three days after Crait.

He said, in a voice that didn't waver or crack, and was as dispassionate as possible under the circumstances: 'This isn't real.'

She whispered, 'I don't care.'

He knew what he had to do. She was entirely at his mercy, throwing herself at him, her warm, willing body pliant in his arms, open for the taking. Now was the time to extract his revenge for the humiliation of the throne room, for the time he'd asked her to join him and she'd thrown his offer back in his face.

His voice was steel and anger. 'I do.'

And he pushed her off him, rolled away to the far side of the bed, flung back the sheet, strode to the fresher and sealed himself in.


	20. Chapter 20

He splashed his face with water a few times, looked into the mirror to determine if that had had any cooling effect. Even in the dim light he was flushed, his heart still hammering in his chest, his body ready for exertion it wasn't going to undertake. Checking the time, he switched the lights on full, since it was early but not indecently so, and set the shower to as cold a temperature as he could manage. Then he set about calming down.

He had finally achieved the first stage in his plan to bring his mortal enemy to heel. He'd promised Luke he'd destroy Rey, but not all torture was physical. Love meant pain, he hadn't needed Snoke to teach him that, it was a lesson he'd taken in with his mother's milk, and Rey was about to learn it too. She could sleep in his bed, but he'd reject her advances in every way possible, until she was so miserable she sobbed into her pillow. He had used the strong emotions she'd sparked in him and turned them into strength, and it was the strength to take her apart, piece by piece. When he'd worked out how to break the bond between them, killing her would be easy.

He stepped out of the shower, a savage joy burning in his chest, slightly dimmed by the recollection that all his clothes were in his wardrobe, and he was going to have to walk out of the fresher in just a towel to retrieve them. She would be lying in his bed watching him as he did so. He had to imagine her crying to shake the persistent state of arousal his groin seemed determined to go into, and he slammed out of the fresher confidently, with a swing in his step.

Her snores pierced the gloom. He halted abruptly. Not only was she not crying she'd gone back to sleep. He stepped closer, checked again. She was definitely asleep, so unconcerned by the fact he'd just rejected her that she slumbered on, regardless. He stalked towards the cupboards, cast the towel aside and hauled on his pants and shirt before switching on all the lights and playing an inspiring military march over the loudspeakers.

Languorously she stretched, her body becoming a taut line under the covers, and she blinked at him, pushing hair out of her eyes. 'Morning,' she said brightly. 'Sleep well?'

He gave her a sour look, picked up a pad from the bedside table and looked around for anywhere to sit that wasn't next to her on the bed. He was going to have to get a couch. 'Are you intending to get dressed any time soon?'

He sounded petulant, even to his own ears, but she simply raised her eyebrows, cast aside the sheet, revealing her long, supple thighs for his inspection, and then padded in the direction of the fresher.

It occurred to him that her clothes were still in the room next door and he'd be treated to the sight of her in a towel every morning if he didn't do something about that so he made arrangements to have her belongings shifted into his cupboards, and then hastened next door to grab something for today. There was an enormous bang from the fresher and the sound of a body collapsing, and taking much of the room down with it.

'Stay where you are,' she yelled, and he was forced to sit on the bed while she emerged, still dripping wet, rubbing her head, clad in what appeared to be a flannel.

He closed his eyes, but it was too late. Despite his resolve, and his vengeance, the flash of her hip was enough to stir his sleeping groin and for the first time that morning, he regretted not sliding his hand down her backside and sheathing his fingers inside her when he'd had the chance. She didn't get ready in a hurry, everything she did was efficient, and composed, and unselfconscious, and took place as if he wasn't sitting on the bed pretending to read. She collected her staff from the floor and secured her towel, while he ordered bathrobes from supplies and then she hobbled into her room, gathering yesterday's clothes from the floor where they'd fallen. He typed in the commands that would provide her with a new set of garments, as well as having the old ones laundered and while he was at it he replaced that red vest she kept wearing to bed with something that would cover her from head to foot and was far less revealing.

She dressed in the fresher, but afterwards she pulled open all the doors of his closets, casting a cursory eye over his belongings before locating a mirror large enough to reflect her hair. The triple arrangement she favoured was fiddly and took a little effort to achieve and when she was finished she was presentable, at least to her standards.

'Where are we going first?' Her tone was bright, polite and gave no hint that she was crushed by his rejection.

He blinked stupidly for a second, 'I've arranged a meeting with Hux's direct reports. If they're as insubordinate as he was I'll eliminate them.'

She nodded, her face expressionless. 'Ready when you are.' But she waited until he was standing at the door about to exit before she continued, 'You were right, Ben. It would have been a mistake.'

Then she stepped around him and into the corridor and he had to watch her hips sway as she walked away, reliving the memory of the smooth skin, the gentle curves under those trousers as a tingle across his palm.

The second ranks of the army were uniform in their hostility. Kylo offered the only free chair in the room to Rey and then was annoyed by how long it took the occupant of the next seat to vacate it for him. He was going to have to assert his authority.

He opened with, 'General Hux was a rebel and a traitor. He betrayed his Supreme Leader and the First Order. Are there any of you who want to make the same mistake?' As expected, there was complete silence in the room, disturbed only by Rey shifting in her seat. 'I thought not. You all report to me now. I expect complete obedience, and I expect success. I do not tolerate errors. I do not tolerate failure. If you cross me I will deal with you in the same way as I dealt with Captain Casenby. Questions?' He left a heartbeat for a response before ploughing on. 'Then let's begin. You will summarise your role and the status of your command.' He extended a finger, pointed to the most nervous individual in the room, a tactic which had served him well in the past. 'You go first.'

The man said nothing. He shot a swift glance at the officer next to him, but then his chin squared, his back straightened, and he continued to say nothing. The rest of the room quietened, knowing that battle was about to commence.

Kylo gave the man one more chance. 'Speak, if you want to live.'

But it appeared the man had no desire to keep on breathing, because he had the temerity to raise his stare to meet Kylo's and although there was fear in his eyes, there was also courage.

Kylo sighed, stretched out a hand and curled his finger and the officer's face went red immediately, his eyes bulging. He was concentrating, so he didn't really register the clattering of chairs, the disturbance in the air as blasters were whipped out and pointed in his direction. It was only when Rey cleared her throat that he glanced around. The lightsaber jumped into his outstretched hand and he leapt to his feet, along with every other occupant of the room, bar one.

'I believe that what the Supreme Leader was trying to say,' Rey began calmly, spreading her hands as if to emphasise the fact that she was the only one not armed. 'Is that he and General Hux had a disagreement over the future of the army. You see, the Supreme Leader here is very keen on order, and he'd like to use the army to bring peace to the galaxy, whereas General Hux preferred it when Snoke was in charge. This meeting is to discuss whether you will support the Supreme Leader, or whether you wish to leave the army, as General Hux chose to do.'

She paused, and Kylo was aware of her hand twisting unseen under the table. 'Why don't you put your guns down so we can talk about it?'

There were a few dark looks and some muttered comments, but one after another, the twelve members of the army hierarchy replaced their weapons and reseated themselves.

Rey leaned forward. 'Now I don't understand the army at all, so it would be very helpful for me if you could explain who you are, what you command, and whether you want to leave the First Order or not.'

Her hand twisted again, and although Kylo was sure she was deploying some kind of mind control, it was so subtle he couldn't feel it.

With a combination of this flagrant misuse of Jedi powers, some warm words and lots of long and lingering looks from those honest eyes Rey managed to convince every member of Hux's staff that they supported the new regime, and within a two hour period had them eating out of her hand.

Kylo sat and said nothing, a very different kind of eating out on his mind. Every time she used her powers like this he felt an urge to prove himself somehow, to show that he was her equal, but today, sitting by her side, so close that their legs were nearly touching, with the palm of his hand alive with the memory of her skin, his thoughts turned in a different direction.

She was possibly the most powerful Jedi who had ever lived, but she slept in his bed. What would it be like if he was the only one allowed to touch her? What if she commanded his armies by day, and at night she begged him to make her come? What if she sweet talked every stormtrooper over to his side, and then kneeled down and sucked his cock with that same mouth?

That wouldn't be weakness, sex with her wouldn't be shameful, it would be a way of showing his power. He glanced at her speculatively. She was in love with him, every single thing she did just confirmed that fact, but he might have been a little too hasty in rebuffing her advances in the bedroom. It might be a more powerful form of rejection if he was to sleep with her, and then kill her afterwards.

He was making her nervous. He hadn't said anything for hours, just sat there, a hulking black shadow watching her speak without commenting. She knew he was in love with her, but this much concentrated male attention was playing havoc with her self-control. She'd used a little bit of the Jedi textbooks on the First Order officers, just enough to get them to put their weapons down, but mostly she'd just talked to them, and the task was made much more difficult with a silent observer. She wasn't even sure she believed what she was saying, about the fabulous new structure Ben was creating, but as long as they stopped trying to kill him long enough for her to break the bond and escape, that was enough for her.

He stared at her all through lunch and when she had to accompany him to the throne room in the afternoon he made her stand beside him and asked her advice at regular intervals. He kept looking up at her for just a fraction too long, until every time they made eye contact she kept remembering the way his hand had felt cupping her backside.

She'd woken early, jerked into consciousness by a sharp stabbing pain in her belly, jerking once again when she realised that sometime in the middle of the night Ben had rolled over and taken her in his arms. He wasn't a deep sleeper, muttering and shifting as he passed from one dream to another, and she attempted to wriggle backwards to get out of his embrace. Then his hand slid up her thigh, underneath her nightdress and settled on her arse. He hoiked her closer to his chest, his erection pressing firmly into her stomach, too close for comfort, and getting even closer when he'd woken up and realised where he was. Even in sleep the power of the connection between them was undeniable, and now, just remembering how his hand had felt as it lay heavy on her skin sent the place between her legs into a stubborn throb.

He looked at her again from his position on the throne, and she wondered whether, even though he'd mistaken lust for love, it would be so unforgiveable to take advantage of that just once? Would it really be so awful to sleep with a man who believed himself in love with her, even though she knew those feelings weren't real? She'd had the same thought when she woke and found herself in his arms this morning. He'd said 'it isn't real' but his body had disputed the words even as they'd left his mouth. It was real enough to have triggered the largest erection she'd ever felt and for an instant she'd been tempted – at that moment she hadn't cared whether his feelings were real or not. As she looked at him sitting there she was even more tempted. Her backside tingled where he'd touched it.

She sat closer to him to him at dinner, pushed by the bond between them into a seat only a few spaces from his, and this time he was less concerned with the holopad in front of him, glancing over at her a few times and making sure she noticed. Although it was still early, he pushed back from the table and headed for his bedroom, leaving her paused in the corridor outside, unsure that the Praetorian Guard should know the detail of her sleeping arrangements.

'Are you coming in or not?' Ben called, and she shrugged and tracked him inside.

Her stomach clenched the instant the beep of the door lock sounded, and she was painfully aware that it was just the two of them, alone in this room until morning.

'I just need to go and get my stuff,' she mumbled, half running towards the interconnecting door to her suite.

'You don't.' He swept a hand towards the cupboards. 'I had it moved.'

She yanked at a handle at random, taking on a lungful of that deep citrus tang that came from the bathing products he kept in his shower, some of which she'd borrowed that morning. The wardrobe contained a rackful of clothes, all muted colours, but few of them were black and they were almost all informal.

'Not that one.'

The next rack held her clothes, along with some outfits that looked like her clothes but which she couldn't possibly wear because they were brilliant white and would get dirty far too easily. Behind the next door along were two bathrobes, a smaller and a larger one, because of course, she was living with Kylo Ren now and they'd be showering together.

She shut the door firmly, turned to tell him exactly how unhappy she was with this whole arrangement, and with his assumption that he could dress her up however he wanted, determine her bedtime, manage her day, control her life but he was waiting over by the newly installed dining table, holding something out with a diffident air.

'I thought you'd want some time to work on this tonight, you've spent all day following me around.' He threw the metal tube carefully into his other hand, swished it a few times. 'Although it's definitely too short in the grip.'

She strode across to him, annoyance forgotten. 'It isn't. You just have massive hands.'

'Do I?' He passed her the lightsaber casing. 'Is that why you keep looking at them?'

She'd lost any interest in him though, dug around in his storage units until she found the right textbook, the crystal, and the bag of tools he'd lent her and pulled out a chair. Spreading the whole set of equipment out across the table she concentrated for long enough and hard enough that she forgot he was sitting behind her on the bed, occupying himself. She swiftly came to the conclusion that the Jedi textbooks were as good as useless in this context – she could get the crystal into the right position within the casing, but wiring up the containment field, the power coupling, and even the on switch appeared too practical for the ancient religion to have bothered to capture in writing.

Ben appeared at her shoulder after a while, looked without interrupting, disappeared, and then the two halves of her broken blade appeared on the table by her right hand. That got her a bit further forward, but two hours or so later she was still up to her elbows in wires and parts. Ben returned again, and this time the red lightsaber appeared at her left hand and one of his long fingers popped a switch on it and the casing cracked open.

She sat back, frowning. 'I'm not copying yours. You've got a wire on the outside, that can't be right.' She reached out, flicked at the offending red line with a fingernail. 'All I have to do is cut that with a knife and the whole thing stops working. Bit of a flaw in the design, don't you think?'

He took the weapon back, sounding vaguely offended. 'It's a very big crystal. There wasn't enough room in the housing for everything.'

'And why does it make that noise? That's a problem with the vibrational dampener isn't it? Did you forget to fit one?'

'I like the noise. I'm going to bed now. Stay up as long as you want.'

She continued to work through the sound of opening and closing doors, the splash of running water, the light smack of soles on a hard floor, the dimming of all other lights, and finally, the sound of deep and peaceful breathing.

When she was sure, she laid down the screwdriver, stretched out the kinks in her shoulders and shook out her hair. As quietly as possible she ransacked every drawer in the room searching for the red dress she'd got used to sleeping in but couldn't find it anywhere. There was a one piece, long sleeved suit in a soft flannel material that looked like it was for sleeping in but the number of buttons up the front was daunting and instead she returned to the rail of clothes she'd mistakenly opened earlier. Selecting a loose tunic that finished just above the knee and securing it with a discarded sash she quietly visited the facilities, quietly slipped under the covers next to him and then quietly commanded the rest of the lights to go out.

She lay there primly for a while, her arms tight on the outside of the sheet so that nothing could get to her body unannounced, legs firmly together, jaw clenched, closing her ears to the seductive whisper of the Force bond. His breathing drifted through the dark, the occasional rustle of his hair on the pillow disturbing the quiet, the faint warmth that spread across the gap between them raising the hair on her right arm.

But he made no move, and in the end, she concluded that he really was asleep, the tension in her spine released and her shoulders sagged into a more natural pose. With a sigh, she rolled onto her side away from him, prepared to sleep.

And then an arm clasped her waist and pulled her backwards.


	21. Chapter 21

He didn't speak. Not once, not the entire time. She thought later how strange that was but in the heat of the moment her attention was completely occupied elsewhere. The arm around her waist pulled her backwards into the middle of the bed and into close and intimate contact with his body, his knees coming up to mirror the bend of hers, his chest pressed to her back, the hard bulge of his arousal hot against her bottom. His lips touched her neck and finding the tie of her tunic his fingers tugged it open and his hand pushed inside to find her breast.

She took in a huge gulp of air and she still felt like she was drowning. The sensation of his mouth on her skin, the open kisses he brushed onto the side of her throat, the heat of his breath, the feeling of his body cocooning hers, these things swept her deep inside herself to a place where the bond between them was firmly in control.

Passion. She felt it, powering through her veins, carried in the thud of her heart, dancing through the oxygen in her blood. She raised her hand, twisted her arm back and sank her fingers into his hair. He sucked at her neck and the groan that issued from her throat was low, hoarse with need. His palm cupped her breast, squeezing, the delicate flesh enclosed and surrounded by his grasp, every cell sending her brain messages about touching and pleasure. She moaned, her free hand finding his, sealing itself over the top, encouraging him to clamp down harder, to curl his fingers around her chest and grip her properly. That contact was enough for a few seconds, but too quickly her body was screaming at her for more and she let him go, fumbling with the tie of the tunic, scrambling to open it so that she would be naked in front of him. He backed off, released her neck, shifted his hips and rolled her flat with the pressure of his palm. Then his hand was sliding, sliding downwards, over her ribcage, down her belly, across her thigh, between her legs.

His fingers found her clitoris at the same moment that he took her nipple into his mouth and she heaved for air, her heels planting securely in the mattress as her hips arched into his touch. She couldn't open her eyes, hands flopping back onto the bed, surrendering herself to the double assault of pleasure battering her senses.

His mouth sucked at her chest, her nipple hard as his tongue flicked at it, worrying the sensitive peak and sending spirals of need into her groin. His fingers were firm, a determined point of contact in the slippery wetness between her legs and she thrust upwards to meet his rhythm, casting all self consciousness aside. Too quickly, his touch was not enough, and her breath came fast, panting through her mouth, her legs opening, and she felt him move again.

A rustle, a grunt of effort, a push and he was inside her, sinking deep into her body and she spread wide to accommodate him. Joy sang in her veins. Pleasure, need, want, desire all concentrated in the feeling of stretching, of being filled to the limits of capacity and then taking some more. She had never felt a penetration like it, nothing that engaged her whole body and her mind at the same time, every thought, every sense focused on the push and pull between her thighs. But too quickly he was shaking with the strain, too quickly his steady rhythm faltered and with a single final thrust he was shouting out, losing his orgasm inside her, climaxing with such force that her entire body was shunted up the bed.

The seconds turned into minutes and still he shuddered, gasping and groaning and crying unintelligible syllables until finally there was a splash of something wet on her cheek and he pulled out, rolling off her immediately and retreating to the far side of the bed. She waited for a while for any sign that he was preparing to return to her side of the mattress and finish what his fingers had started but in the end she gave up, fumbling around in the dark for tissue to begin a clean up operation.

He woke in the morning after possibly the best sleep of his life, relaxed, refreshed and reinvigorated, opening his eyes at the first request of his alarm to the morning lighting program. Rey was still asleep, so he killed the alarm, dimmed the lights and lay there staring at her face.

She appeared to have shrunk overnight, becoming smaller and more vulnerable when surrounded by pillows and blankets than in the armed conference room she'd dominated without weapons yesterday. She had the unlined skin of the truly innocent and he found it hard to equate that childlike appearance with the woman he'd had sex with the night before. She hadn't just responded to his touch, she'd welcomed it, held nothing back, thrown herself into the encounter with as much enthusiasm as he'd ever imagined her to possess.

From the moment he'd touched her the experience had carried him away, and although he'd been so worried about whether he was still physically capable he'd rushed the entry, once he was inside her everything just worked perfectly. The feel of her tight, hot cunt clenching around him had triggered the most intense orgasm of his life, and he was still recovering from the aftermath this many hours later. He felt like he'd poured years' worth of frustration and loneliness into her in just a few seconds, satisfied a craving for physical contact so deeply ingrained he had stopped noticing it. The release had been so all encompassing it had brought tears to his eyes and now, resting in bed watching the woman who had provided it as she slept, he felt a profound sense of gratitude.

He wanted her again. His groin was thick with it, swelling into readiness at the thought of the slick embrace between her legs. There was no question of rejecting her – the plan he had nurtured for weeks now seemed ludicrous. He had tasted the power of the connection between them and it was clear that he needed to experience it again, as soon as possible. But he remembered that he'd been alone in his climax, and although he'd definitely heard her enjoyment when he fingered her, he didn't know what she sounded like when she came.

His sense of satisfaction faded, and, disappointed with himself, he slipped out of bed, found the sleeping pants tumbled into a heap on the floor and went to make amends in the only way he could think of. It was over an hour later when he finally heard the light pad of her feet approaching and she pulled out the seat next to him and sat down. Her hair was uncombed, her teeth uncleaned, her face ridged with red lines from the folds of the pillow and he could smell himself on her, but as she sat there screwing her face up into a frown he thought she'd never looked more beautiful.

'I didn't ask you to do that,' she complained, reaching out to pull the open lightsaber back to her side of the table.

'I haven't finished it.' He put down the welding torch, pushed it towards her. 'The distribution manifold was in upside down. I fixed it for you.'

'Thanks,' she said, with very bad grace. 'But keep your hands off it in future.'

'Oh.' He was sure there was a double meaning in that. 'Well. If you're sure. I won't touch it again then.'

'It isn't yours to fiddle with whenever you see fit.'

'No. Obviously not.'

'You've done enough.'

He cleared his throat, thumbed the point of a discarded awl. 'I can do more. I didn't finish what I started. I could see to that right now if you wanted me to. It doesn't have to be over.'

'Are we still talking about the lightsaber?' she shot back.

He put down the tool. 'Of course.'

She pushed back the dining chair, tightened the sash on her robe. 'I'm going to have a shower. Don't follow me.'

He thought about his response for a split second and then, because this situation couldn't get any more awkward and he really did want to know he said, 'Rey, do you…need anything this morning? Anything medical?'

She span on her heel and her eyes shot sparks at him. 'Are you attempting to talk to me about contraception? Which you're assuming is my responsibility?'

He took a deep breath, then decided to close his mouth and not say anything at all.

'I hope not, because I'm an adult, and I've done this before. More than you if last night was anything to go by.'

The door slammed behind her and he wondered if it was too late to track down the people she'd done this before with and hurt them a lot.

He got up, drifted around the room, straightening things, trying to decide whether or not to follow her into the fresher and set out the new clothes he'd had made as a peace offering. He opened the door of her wardrobe, examined her meagre belongings. She'd brought nothing with her when she came to him, and even if she stayed the rest of her life she'd still have nothing to offer him, but he felt unworthy of her nevertheless.

There was something else in her cupboard though, on a shelf near the bottom – a stack of holopads, which, when he pulled one out bore the mark of the Sith library. He flicked it on, scrolled through pages at random.

 _'The cur has excelled, yet again. Construction continues apace, with small scale power testing scheduled to begin imminently. Competition continues to focus his mind, I have promised he may observe a training session unseen if everything proceeds according to plan. He is keen to see blood.'_

Kylo put the pad down and pulled out another one, feeling vaguely sick.

 _'Intelligence from Takodana, union dispute planned and ready to execute on demand.'_

Behind him the door to the fresher hissed, but he waved a hand absently and sealed it closed. He just needed a few more moments alone to be sure.

 _'Little Lord Vader continues to weep in his bedroom for the loss of his father. Harvesting complete and preparations on Moraband have been made. Blood ritual scheduled for tomorrow.'_

Kylo put the pad down carefully, pulled the wardrobe door closed. For a reason he couldn't quite fathom, Rey had a stack of Snoke's diaries in her closet, and despite what she'd said in the library, these diaries included him. He wanted more time reading them, but that wasn't going to be easy with Rey constantly in his bedroom and no obvious way to get rid of her.

A hammering on the door behind him reminded him to release the lock and she strode out of the fresher both damp and furious.

There must be something in those diaries that she didn't want him to see. He wondered what it was.


	22. Chapter 22

Rey had woken up disgusted with herself. Even the Force bond didn't seem a good enough justification for what she'd done – spread her legs for her mortal enemy and allowed him to use her exactly as he pleased. She'd enjoyed it at the time, but not enough to counterbalance the regret she felt the morning after.

She opened her eyes to the sight of his naked back bent over the dining table, his hand pushing the hair out of his eyes at regular intervals as he concentrated on his task, and she was disgusted with him as well. They were prisoners of the connection that Snoke had forced on them, but Ben seemed to be enjoying his captivity a little too much.

She got dressed and ignored him, ate breakfast and ignored him, got into his shuttle on the way to some shipyard or other and ignored him the whole journey. It was only when he was poised in front of a large red button, about to commission the building of a replacement Dreadnaught that she stopped ignoring him and began to back away instead.

The reporter from the communications team she'd suggested was in attendance, recording the event for posterity and it occurred to Rey that the last thing she wanted was to appear all over Holonet standing next to Kylo Ren. She attempted to mingle with the crowd surrounding him but she couldn't back up far enough to be out of sight before her legs grew weak and she stumbled into one of the Praetorian Guard.

A hand snagged her wrist before she could hit the ground, and she was hauled upright and into close proximity with the chest of the Supreme Leader, a broad black expanse of ceremonial uniform. She stared at it, and the longer she stared the more aware she became that she knew what that chest felt like under the uniform. She'd had her hand on the front of it in the middle of the night, when the Supreme Leader's hips had been pressing her down into the bed, when his breath was hot on her face, when he was wedged hard between her thighs. She flushed at the thought, realising that his fingers were still latched around her arm and little shudders of sensation were curling outwards from that contact, moistening her lips, making her ready.

She raised her eyes to his, and in them she found the same memory, dark and secret, before he bent close to whisper in her ear. 'I can't keep my hands off you.'

Then he whirled away to push his button and smile for his publicity shots, leaving her shaken. It was going to happen again. If he insisted on touching her, on deliberately releasing the passion of the bond, then she would have to use every fibre of her self control to resist letting him use her again.

She stayed as far away as she could manage once he'd finished issuing final orders on the ship's design and strolling around the construction facility, but he waited politely at the bottom of the shuttle ramp for her to walk up and as soon as she had settled in her usual seat in the back with the guard he sat down right next to her. He pulled out a pad and busied himself with rejecting one call after the other but over time his legs relaxed, spread outwards, until his thigh was brushing hers, jolting into tighter contact as the shuttle yawed and corrected.

His leg was much longer than hers, the contrast of black against white garments stark, and the longer she stared at it the more aware she became that she knew what that leg felt like, under the uniform. Last night that leg had inserted itself between hers and she'd wrapped her knees over the back of it while he was pounding into her, his long legs moving together, spreading hers apart.

She wanted to move away, yearned for the safety of distance but just as she was about to move he turned his head and she noticed him looking at her. Not into her eyes though, but down at her chest, a long, thorough examination that lingered on the cut-out notch of her top, the swell of her breasts underneath. He said nothing, he didn't need to, because her heart kicked into a higher gear and her imagination did the rest.

He'd had his mouth around her breast last night, in the dark. His fingers had groped one, but his lips had tasted the other, dragged it deep into his mouth and suckled on it. If she concentrated she could remember exactly what that had felt like, the cool wetness on her heated skin, the sharpness of his teeth on her soft flesh, the focused hit of ecstasy when he sucked. She swallowed against a dry mouth, and he looked away. She gritted her teeth, sure now that he knew exactly what he was doing. He knew he was her weakness and he was using that against her.

She managed to ignore him through lunch and she pretended not to watch when he visited the medical bay and injected himself ostentatiously with something that looked suspiciously like birth control. He took the offensive again in the afternoon, sitting beside her, but not too close around the conference table. The first of his four captains gave a report, she opened her mouth to ask a question and Ben put his hand on her thigh.

She was conscious of her mouth hanging open for a while before she remembered to shut it and she glanced downwards, to see his incredibly long, strong fingers resting on her leg. The longer she stared at them the more aware she became that she knew what they felt like, moving vigorously between her thighs. Her breath caught in her throat and he removed his hand, but the damage was done. For the rest of the meeting she watched his hands, when they were folded on the table, gesturing in emphasis, tapping with impatience and she imagined how they would feel inside her. Tight and hot, most likely. Rough and insistent. Stretching and scissoring and never, never stopping until the whole of that hand was inside her body and she was taking it all, impossibly full, spread wide and climaxing over and over.

The state of arousal she'd managed to work herself into by the time the bedroom door closed behind her at the end of the day was embarrassing and she turned for the fresher immediately, hoping a cold shower would calm her down.

His hand caught hers, and when she looked back he was smiling, but it wasn't a kind smile, there was something wild about it. His finger slid upwards, caressed the inside of her wrist and she hesitated, didn't pull away. He took a few steps backwards and, caught by the Force bond and her own responses she followed until he'd backed her up against the dining table, swept the scattered tools and equipment onto the floor and put both hands around her waist. He boosted her back until she was sitting on the edge, then kneeled down in front of her and made short work of peeling off her boots.

She clamped her legs together, but it was a weak attempt and as his hands felt for her ankles, then ran up the inside of her legs from calf to thigh, her muscles went limp and her legs spread. He stood to his full height, meeting her gaze and she could tell she was blushing but the physical reaction to his proximity was so strong there was nothing she could do to resist.

She let him strip off her sleeves, cast them to the floor, let him push her jacket off her shoulders, tugging her top swiftly over her head. He jerked off the breast band, and with a face so calm and detached he might have been assembling a lightsaber he released the catch on her trousers and yanked both them, and her shorts down round her ankles. He looked at her nakedness for a minute while she sat there, her pulse like distant thunder, her skin hot beneath his scrutiny, and then he hooked a chair with his heel, sat down and separated her legs.

She could have stopped it then, but his palms were resting on the inside of her thighs and when his lips met the smooth skin between her legs the bond took over and she lay back and flung her arm across her eyes. He kissed her there. She felt it, as well as heard it, kisses that worked their way from top to bottom and back up while she quivered with anticipation. Then his palms exerted more force, she opened her legs properly and his tongue went into action.

Every place he licked her sprang into wet, trembling life and he swirled his way into and out of every crevice and hollow leisurely, exploring, until he centred on the juicy heart of her climax. There was rubbing, a determined rhythmic rubbing as the tip of his tongue made repeated contact and the muscles in her pelvis contracted, her hips arching into his face. Pressure next, side to side steady pressure to continue the build of the orgasm now rippling its way through her loins. Then back to the delicate flicking but with a harder edge this time, a little bit more bite and she found it difficult to keep still, writhing on the table under the patient attention of his mouth.

She cracked open her eyes, no longer able to simply lie there and take what he was doing to her without at least some participation. There was a dark head between her legs, dark eyes, the Supreme Leader of the First Order giving her oral sex, a man who loved her going down on her because he wanted to. She stretched out a trembling hand, wound it into his hair, using that contact to pull his mouth against her at regular intervals, turning the different techniques he was attempting into a single steady rhythm. Propping herself on one elbow she met his gaze, fascinated by the exaggerated movements his tongue was making as it rubbed away at her clitoris, faster and faster, and by the earnest concentration in his eyes as he made amends for his inattention the night before. She gasped, feeling the tension build to unbearable heights, and she no longer felt used or full of regret – as she watched him taking such care over her climax, what she felt was loved.

She came, coating his tongue in her orgasm and he knew better than to stop, keeping up the repetitions as she flooded his mouth. When he finally backed off and she tried to get up one hand shifted to lie flat on her stomach, holding her down and the other paused at the entrance to her body, and then slid slowly inside.

She crashed back onto the table with a thud, feeling the penetration of his finger and clamping around it involuntarily. He rose to his feet, seemingly certain that she wouldn't try to move and planted his free hand on the table top, the other buried deep between her legs. She was aware of the expressions chasing each other across her face, surprise, desire, rampant need and then pleasure, complete and overwhelming pleasure as he inserted another finger, filled her up with those thick and powerful digits. The extra sensitivity the connection between them brought forced her attention downwards and her world contracted to just those two fingers inside her, and the curl as they hit the spot that made her cry out. She was conscious that he was watching her, absorbing the cries she was making, the groans that filled the quiet room, the response of her body to the searching penetration of his fingers.

The gentle push built into a deeper series of thrusts as his pace and pressure increased, his fingers ramming into her as hard as she could take, working away at that place inside until she yelled out another orgasm, sweating and gasping on the table.

He waited until she'd finished, then simply picked her up and deposited her on the bed, floppy and still recovering. She closed her eyes, paying no attention to the noise of him removing his clothes until something smooth and heavy prodded for the right angle and then slid easily inside her. She felt him nuzzle her neck, kiss his way up and over her cheek but she turned her lips away from his mouth, opening her eyes.

'This isn't real,' she whispered as he flexed his hips, pushing a little more deeply. 'We don't really feel like this about each other.' But the words made her sad even as she uttered them, and some part of her hoped that he'd contradict her.

He grimaced, withdrawing, and then pressing back in as she wrapped her legs around his waist, locked her arms across his back. He dropped his weight onto her, his body rushing forward with all the enthusiasm of last time, but none of the haste and his voice was soft in her ear. 'It might not be real, but it feels fantastic.'

She ran her nails down his back in agreement and he shuddered.

She met him stroke for stroke, canting her hips to match the pattern he set, the grind of his pelvis unhurried this time, controlled as he waited for the pressure inside her to begin building again. It didn't take long, and the willingness of her body to rush into another thigh trembling, lip biting, stomach clenching climax surprised her.

He buried his mouth in her neck, sucking hard, her whole body shifted with the power of a few final strokes and she gripped him tight with her knees, urging him on. There was a sharp cry in her ear, and she tumbled into ecstasy, as he spent himself inside her and collapsed.

She was expecting to be ignored again afterwards, but he slid a sweaty arm underneath her neck and she lay there throbbing gently, listening to his heartbeat slow until her eyes closed.

He waited until she was asleep, explored her mind quickly with his power to make sure she wouldn't wake up soon and then crept out of bed and over to the wardrobe. It was a bonus that she slept so long, and so deeply, because he wanted another look at Snoke's journals without being disturbed. After flicking through a few of the pages at random it still wasn't clear to him why she'd taken them and then lied to him that none of his old master's notes had mentioned Kylo at all. He'd thought that odd at the time, but it was apparent now that Rey hadn't bothered to read most of the entries herself.

Each pad had been left on a search page, into which she'd typed his chosen name and if it came up with a hit she'd taken the whole device and hidden it in the cupboard. He didn't really understand why.

Most of the entries were innocuous, records of Snoke's dealings with various individuals, the intricate plots he had underway, the orders he gave. There was surprisingly little about Kylo's training, so little in fact that he was slightly insulted, before reasoning that there must be a separate section in the library devoted to his progress.

He focused on the pad with the most recent entries, turning to the one he'd glimpsed earlier about the blood ritual and paging backwards, realising with a jolt that he'd found exactly what he was looking for. The dates were correct, the entries not fully detailed, but putting it together with what he'd read in the library when he'd visited it with Rey he had a reasonable idea of what had been done to him. The memory came back to him, sharp with the clarity of recent pain.

Crouching on the floor in a puddle of his own blood, the bowcaster shot to his side dripping freely, the slash to his face raw and burning, his head bowed, his mind open. Snoke's prying fingers rifling through his brain. There was no medical attention until his master allowed it, no release from the pain of failure, just more humiliation. At that point he'd had no other wish than to be dead.

'And what did you do then, my apprentice?' There was no need for the question, Snoke already knew.

'I killed my father.' The words cost him, made it real.

'And yet you are weaker than ever. Bested by an untrained girl. How have you fallen so far?'

He didn't answer, kept his head down.

The creature penetrated his mind, thrust its consciousness into the secret places inside which should have stayed private. 'The girl. She intrigues you. She attracts you.' The thing hissed, more monster than man. 'You desire her.'

He looked up then, aware that tears were streaking his face, half hoping that Snoke would strike him down for showing such weakness. 'I killed my father, Supreme Leader.'

Snoke stretched out a clawed hand. 'Well done, my apprentice.'

He'd thought he was being congratulated for the patricide, but he saw now that even that act had meant little to his master. The Supreme Leader had another use for him in mind. On that same date Snoke had outlined several strategies with which to find Luke Skywalker and noted:

 _Through passion I gain strength. The fly has always had an excess of passion, which was quenched in the early days though liberal application of his hand down his trousers, but although I stopped that habit, perhaps I did not give full consideration as to how it could be used. Since the death of his father he buzzes around in an irritating manner, butting his head against anything in his path in the hope of being swatted but perhaps I can give him another outlet for his grief. He is in love with the Jedi girl, Rey, although he appears not to realise the extent of this emotion, preferring to imagine her in various carnal positions. He has formed the beginning of a Force chain, which may be useful._

 _The history of Darth Nihilus records the application of Force bonds, but the Darth Tyrannus example is more instructive. Dark illusion may be used to manipulate visions in the target as recorded by Sidious in the records of his battles with the Jedi, and the creation of a Force bond between my apprentice and the object of his affections will open her mind to me. If I capture her, I capture Skywalker. It requires an altar basin, lightning, the Balc incantation and blood, which luckily, my apprentice has always been happy to donate._

Kylo switched off the pad and sat on the floor in the dark. Not long after the date of that entry, Snoke had made him fight two predator droids with their safety functions switched off, and he had barely made it out of the training hall with his life. The floor had been slippery with blood, which was evidently the outcome his master wanted.

At the time, he had accepted the pain, because he'd felt deserving of such punishment and thought that Snoke was trying to help him exorcise the ghost of his father in setting such a challenge. He had always attempted any test his master had posed, because it was always in search of a higher goal – the acquisition of power.

Passion had brought him strength, and strength had brought him power and then victory, the Force had broken his bonds and he was free, but as he sat in the darkness and listened to Rey's gentle snores he came to the conclusion that freedom wasn't what he wanted.

He was sure that Rey hadn't seen this part of the diary, or if she had, she hadn't understood what she was reading. She loved him, but she didn't want to stay with him. She wanted to get away as soon as possible - if she'd found a cure there was no way she'd have kept it from him. She was obsessed with the fact that the feelings between them weren't real, it was practically all she talked about.

A short spell in the Sith library would find the right ritual, now that he knew what he was looking for, and then he could snap the bond with Rey and kill her. In fact, he could probably search the virtual archive right now, find the words and murder her while she slept if he wanted to. It was what he'd desired, what he'd planned for – to take revenge on her as a proxy for the damage done to the rest of his life. But now it came to it he could no longer imagine her death at his hands, not when the connection he felt with her during these moments of shared intimacy was so strong, so alive. If he couldn't bring himself to kill her, he could just break the chain between them and she'd leave immediately, keen to put the First Order behind her and go back to the Resistance. Either way he would be free.

He thumbed the edge of the pad in his lap. Snoke had not been kind, the contempt in his diaries for Kylo was evident, and he understood enough about the woman in his bed to know that her compassionate nature drove her to want to protect him. She'd probably taken the diaries in an attempt to stop him finding out what his master had really thought of him, sparing him pain because she loved him, and for no other reason than that. Her love was all she was really trying to hide.

He glanced over his shoulder. Looked down at the pad. Right now, Rey loved him; Rey was in his bed. And he'd had enough of being punished – now he wanted his reward. He replaced the pad in the cupboard, crept back over to her sleeping form, slipped beneath the covers and slid his arm back around her shoulders.

She grunted something, rolled onto her side and spread an arm across his body. The bond sang its explicit lullaby and he gave himself over to it, stopped fighting and cuddled her close.

She was the only gift Snoke had ever given him, the reward for years of struggle, and he had no intention of letting her go. He would not break the bond, not now, not ever.


	23. Chapter 23

He woke in the morning to her face on the neighbouring pillow, smiling at him, and he would have smiled back, had life ever taught him how to return that kind of smile.

'Why are you never up and dressed at a reasonable hour?' she complained. 'I'm going to set an alarm for you tomorrow.'

'I don't think I've slept this well in years.'

She smiled at him again, but it seemed less spontaneous and her hand stretched out hesitantly, smoothed his hair back behind his ear. 'I was wondering,' she said, and now she was tracing a fingertip down over his cheek, along the line of his jaw. 'Would it be alright if I couldn't keep my hands off you, either?'

Her finger slid over his throat, down onto his collarbone, over his chest until her palm pressed flat against his heart. His skin tingled everywhere she'd touched and his crotch stirred with interest.

'I think that would be alright,' he responded, in as casual a tone as he could manage.

She shifted closer, her wandering finger bumping over the hard-won contours of his stomach and then her hand closed around his cock and he pulled in a sharp breath through his nose as the sensation hit him. Her smile appeared again, in a slightly more intimidating format, and she nudged him onto his back, twitching away the sheet and yanking down his pants with her free hand.

He forced himself to relax and she stroked his cock a few times, gently but with assurance and he watched himself harden into her touch with a feeling of relief. Her hand gripped the base, tugged carefully upwards, repeated the motion with a little more force and a twist on the end and it didn't feel wrong, or shameful but he was still tense, worry pulling his stomach into a tight ball. She seemed to sense it, slowed down, relaxed the grip of her hand as if concerned she was hurting him and he took a deep breath in preparation. There were demons here that needed to be slain, and he sat up a little, wrapped his hand around hers and directed the motion of her fingers, running up and down his erection, demonstrating where he liked more pressure and when speed was key. His breathing accelerated as the pull on his cock increased and wetness lubricated the end but he didn't look her in the eye until she began bending her head, clearly intending to supplement the movements of her hand with her mouth.

'Not now,' he whispered. 'Not yet.'

She shrugged, released the sweet clamp of her hand, swung her leg over his hips and impaled herself on his cock instead. He slumped back onto the bed, let her ride him, taking him deep into her cunt while he thumbed her clitoris and made her gasp. Her eyes were closed, her breasts bouncing as she fucked him and he let go of the darkness in his head, thrusting his hips into her with abandon, panting out the beginnings of his climax. This was perfect, she was perfect, and in that moment of almost orgasm he couldn't tell whether the emotion that surged within him was coming from the Force bond or from his own heart.

He sat up, held her shoulders, fixing her in place and banged into her body as hard as he could, felt her convulse around him as he shot his climax into her with a cry.

He was in the fresher when the call came in. Rey lounged in a tangle of sheets, sweaty and dishevelled and revelling in it. This was what it felt like to be loved; this was what it felt like when someone cared. She knew it wasn't real, and that the minute the bond was broken Ben would stop behaving like this towards her and start trying to kill her instead, but right now she was ignoring that and just enjoying the moment.

The first time they'd had sex, she thought he was selfish, but after the second time, when he'd tried his best to give her as many orgasms as possible she worried that he thought she was selfish and decided she was going to do something for him instead. He was clearly awkward about letting her touch him, he'd never looked as uncomfortable as when she'd pushed down his trousers this morning and he'd stopped her from giving him a blow job, which was more than any of the other men she'd been with had done. She'd come to the conclusion he was shy.

Her libido seemed to have perceived that as a challenge and almost the minute she'd clambered off him she wanted to climb back on again. She was planning on seducing him again the minute he returned from the fresher, all damp hair and long wet limbs.

So when his pad vibrated with an incoming message she pulled it towards her, intending to turn it off, noting that this wasn't the first time this particular code had tried to make contact. Eyes widening she answered instead, realising that this identifier was familiar.

Leia's face filled the screen. 'Rey. Oh Rey, what a relief. I thought you were dead until I saw you on Holonet yesterday. I've been calling Ben for days but he won't answer. Where have you been?'

'Here. I have to stay with him. I was locked up for a while after I saw you last, but now I have to be at his side they're just guarding me.'

'And have you got any more intelligence to send?' the other woman asked, hopefully.

That was the pleasantries over with then, Rey thought. 'They've taken away my access, I can't send you anything.' For the first time she was actually grateful for that restriction. 'How is Finn, and Poe – is he back? And Rose, she's better?'

Leia's face darkened. 'Poe is still missing. He was picked up by the First Order around the same time you were and no one's heard from him since. I thought I'd lost you both.'

Rey frowned, tapped a few commands on her own device. 'I have access to all of General Hux's intelligence and there's nothing about Poe in it. All the prison cells are empty, according to this. He's not here.'

'Have you replaced Hux then?' There was an edge to the General's voice, an unwelcome implication.

Rey brushed it off. 'Of course not. But I'm stuck with the First Order and it's impossible to go to the sort of meetings I've been going to and keep my mouth shut. Ben asks me for advice. I could do with some help actually, if you don't mind. I'm not really sure what I'm doing.'

'Where is he? Does he know you've answered my call?'

Rey glanced around. 'He's in the fresher. I probably don't have long.'

'Rey,' Leia asked evenly. 'Are you in his room?'

'Yes, but only because I have to be.'

Leia cut her off. 'There's a pillow behind you and you don't seem to be wearing anything. I can draw my own conclusions. You've been in love with him for weeks and he clearly feels the same, but that isn't my concern. I will not support the First Order. I can't help you.'

'I'm not sure this is the First Order any more. He wants peace, although he keeps calling it something else. How do you bring peace to an entire galaxy?'

Leia blinked at her. 'Democracy. Give the people a voice.'

'That's not really an option at the moment. I need an intermediate step.'

Leia threw up her hands. 'You're asking me to fix the First Order? I've spent my life trying to destroy it, and the Empire before it.'

'Yes, but there isn't an alternative at the moment is there?' Rey heard the stubbornness in her own voice. 'You said it yourself. If the Order is destroyed there will be chaos. I can't stop the sea, I can only try to turn the tide.'

In the background she could hear the water switch off, the drying fans start turning. 'I have to go. Can you help me or not?'

Leia sighed. 'Start by trying to make everything fair – laws that apply to everyone, justice for all, that sort of thing. I'll give the rest some thought. If I call the same time tomorrow will you answer?'

Ben emerged wearing a bathrobe and Rey lost interest in politics, tossing the pad away. She watched him for a bit but he pretended not to notice so she gave him his privacy and went to sluice away the evidence of her recent exertions instead.

She sat right next to him round the conference table though while he grilled his four aides and halfway through a report about all the First Order's slaves being released, the positive impact on the exchequer and the negative impact on the supply chain she put her hand on his leg. It was as if he'd been waiting for her to make a move because faster than thought his hand clamped down on top of hers, preventing her from shifting further up his thigh. Instead, she twisted her palm over, laced her fingers through his, and after a few moments, he closed his fingers over hers and they sat, holding hands under the table. Although he looked quite odd, gesturing with one hand, tapping on his technology with a single finger he made no move to let her go.

She realised halfway through the meeting, being held by a man who loved her, and for whom she'd open her legs again, having her opinions listened to and acted upon, making a difference to something that mattered, that she was happy. So happy she wanted to tell him about it immediately so that he would be happy too.

'I'm not sure that using the Empire's laws makes everything fair though,' she chipped in, at the end of a lengthy discussion that seemed to be going around in circles. 'I know you don't want to use the New Republic's laws either but surely we can work out a balance between the two? Maybe we can compare them both side by side, topic by topic and see which one works best for us. Let's pick this up tomorrow, I need a word with the Supreme Leader in private.'

Ben flinched slightly beneath the table but didn't object out loud, nodding at his captains as they left the room and gesturing at his bodyguard to follow. As soon as they were alone he withdrew their linked hands from concealment and examined them carefully. 'The bond is tightening more quickly than I was expecting. I'm sorry I haven't been able to find a cure. We probably don't have much time. Can you still stand on your own?'

She released him, waggled her fingers. 'I'm not touching you because my legs have stopped working. I'm holding your hand because I want to.'

He turned the faintest shade of pink. 'And that was what you wanted to talk to me about?'

'Partly. I wanted you to know that even though this isn't real, and without the bond we'd probably be trying to kill each other right now, I wish it was.' She found that her heart was beating faster as she said the words, uncertain of his reaction. 'I liked what we did last night, and I liked what we did this morning, and I like all of this.' She waved a hand at the room to indicate everything that wasn't bed related. 'I think that if I'd known about this when you asked me to join you I might not have left.'

He bolted out of his chair, strode to the door and stabbed the exit button. She trailed him down the corridor but he only stopped when they were in the throne room and he'd flung himself into the big chair. She stood where the petitioners usually stood, waiting.

He thumped the arms of the throne. 'This was all I ever wanted,' he said, and his voice was raw, scraped harsh with emotion. 'This. And you.'

'It isn't real,' she said sadly. 'None of this is real.'

'Then why does it feel like it is?'

She took a few paces forward, climbed the remaining steps. 'I think you were wrong about Snoke. I don't think there's any reward about this whole set up – it's just punishment. The bond brings us together and gives us these…feelings when we touch, but it's all fake, and the minute that connection is broken all we'll have left is memories. It will all be over, and you'll want to kill me again. That's what I wanted to talk to you about.'

She took a very deep breath, leaned on the arm of his chair. 'I don't want to be alone. Just for a little while. I'd like to pretend that I mean something to somebody.'

'I've already told you what you meant to me, once.'

'I wasn't listening when you said it.'

'I'm not saying it twice.'

'Then pretend with me. Pretend I said yes, pretend I joined you. Pretend that all of this is real.' She didn't say the rest of the words on the tip of her tongue, she didn't dare. 'Just for a little while.'

He stood, and there was a moment when she thought he might speak, but instead he put one hand on her waist, and the other cupped her cheek. And then he leaned down and kissed her.


	24. Chapter 24

He felt vaguely that someone should be in control of this kiss. Someone should be making sure it wasn't too rough, or too fast, that her teeth didn't keep getting bashed with his, and that his lower lip wasn't bitten to shreds, but his arms and his mouth and his heart were full of Rey and if someone was in charge it wasn't him. He wasn't sure how long it lasted, he lost all track of time in the feeling of her tongue winding against his, in the pressure of her lips on his mouth, the press of her body in full frontal contact. It was like the connection between them had been waiting for this moment, this first of a thousand kisses and it roared into savage life, binding him to her with unbreakable ties. His arms refused to let her go, his head angled and locked, all his senses captured by the intoxicating prison of her kiss.

Someone knew what they were doing though, because after a while there were hands on the front of his trousers, and then hands on the front of his chest, exerting a mild push until his legs obeyed and he sat down. She was on her knees before he could object and then sure, well tutored fingers brushed aside material, extracting, releasing, her head dropped into position and his cock was in her mouth.

He had time to look around while the dark hair in his lap descended a few times, and she learnt with her tongue what he'd already shown her hand. This was his fantasy. Here he was, Supreme Leader of the First Order, sitting on his throne with his mortal enemy on her knees in front of him, servicing him with her mouth. This should have been all about power and victory, winning and domination, revenge and hatred, but it wasn't. He didn't have a hand on the back of her head, he wasn't attempting to gag her, he didn't force himself down her throat, he simply sat there and surrendered.

Her hand ringed the base of his cock, pulling upwards hard, exactly the way he liked it, and the warm sucking pleasure of her mouth encased the end, taking him down in quick, shallow gulps. She noticed his distraction and a frown creased her forehead before an idea flickered, so transparent he could read it in her eyes. Her free hand went exploring, found his balls and grabbed his attention. He watched her pleasure him, smothering his length in lavish sweeps of her tongue before returning to focus on the liquid easing out of the end, teasing the head of his cock to give her more.

She swallowed him down, her face coming closer in an attempt to fit all of him in and his eyes closed, lost in the waves of suction, the endless, glorious attentions of her tongue every time he slid home. The orgasm was as strong as the one he'd imagined, powering out of him and hitting her mouth and he opened his eyes to the sight of her throat working to accept his come.

There wasn't much he could say after that, so he took her by the hand and walked her back to their bedroom, sealed the door and removed her clothes slowly, piece by piece. He kissed her fingers, one by one, the inside of her wrist, her elbow, a place behind her ear, the side of her neck, her clavicles and then he laid her on the bed and learned how the skin tasted on every square inch of her breasts while she watched, her eyes dark.

He turned to her feet next, kissing soles and toes, the long, slim lines of her calves, the inside of her knees, her thighs. He spent so long with his face between her legs that his jaw began to ache, but it was worth it for the shaking of her muscles around his ears, the panting cries when she attempted to say his name, the desperate clench of her fingers in his hair.

Then he fucked her, long and slow, seeing the orgasm circle in her eyes until it pounced and he leaned down and kissed her through it, taking her mouth with his tongue as her hips shook beneath him. She could do better than that though, and he was still hard, so he flipped her onto all fours, rammed into her fast with his fingers coaxing her into another crescendo. This time she came shouting, sweat slicking her back, her head thrown upward, shoving her pelvis against his cock so that he released deep inside her core and she collapsed forwards onto the sheet. She was asleep in seconds, her backside naked to the air, sprawled unselfconscious in his bed.

Her words had disturbed him too much to join her oblivion, and he got up, paced the room instead. He'd never been much good at pretending, life had been too hard for daydreams, and the thought that all this would soon be only memories rankled with him. He wanted to give her something more permanent, something she'd always have close to hand, something that she'd only need to look at and she wouldn't be able to help remembering him.

Knowing she'd be angry and not caring, he retrieved the pile of parts and tools scattered around the lightsaber casing, corrected her poor attempts at construction and assembled the weapon as it should be built, with the addition of one small thing. Right in the centre, where she wouldn't notice he connected a red wire, a little piece left over from this own sword, buried in the heart of the blade. It would look like a Jedi weapon, would most likely end up as one of the anaemic colours they favoured but a little bit of it would always be his. He didn't switch it on, just left it on the bedside table so she'd see it when she woke up, and then he messaged the Sith archivist to bring him a couple of likely looking books he'd found in the library catalogue.

He sat behind the screen that partitioned off the bed and read the books when they arrived, paging though until he found the incantation in the Balc language that had been used to create the bond he didn't want to have to break. Life had been too hard for daydreams though, he knew that this time with her couldn't go on forever and the anger that had been caged and sleeping inside him for a while stirred, and looked for a way out.

When she opened her eyes late in the afternoon, blinking at the kinks in her back, conscious of the wet patch in which she was lying, she discovered that she could no longer move her legs. She reached for him immediately, panicking until her questing fingers met his thigh.

'Do you feel it?' she gasped.

His tone was resigned, and calm, although she knew he must be in pain. 'I think my days in the fresher alone are over.' He squeezed her fingers. 'It will be alright.'

She switched the lights on so she could glare at him properly. 'How will it be alright? I'll have to touch you if I want to live, you said so yourself.'

He shrugged, picked up her hand and kissed the tip of each of her fingers in turn. 'I can think of worse punishments.'

She snatched her hand away. 'What's the matter with you? Why aren't you taking this seriously?'

The look her gave her was entirely serious. 'You asked me to pretend. I'm pretending.'

'Yes, but you were supposed to be serious about this.'

'Ah.' His expression cleared. 'Then you only want me to pretend I love you.'

She gave him a very hard stare, annoyed that he'd used the phrase she didn't want to say. 'Actions matter, not words,' she quoted back at him. 'Does 'I love you' mean anything to you at all?'

He shrugged, 'You can pretend it does, if you like. We have a troop inspection in fifteen minutes. Are you going to get up?'

'Take off your clothes,' she snapped. 'I need a shower first.'

He rolled his eyes. 'I'm sure you'll be fine if I just watch.'

She couldn't get off the bed without his help though, and after watching her struggle to position her legs over the side of the mattress he held out his hand, which enabled her to stand up. She made it to the fresher, sent him outside again for a couple of minutes, but fell as she attempted to reach the shower using only the walls as support. The level of help she was going to need from him was ridiculous, and it made her feel ashamed. She didn't want him to see her as a burden, she should be his equal, not a dependent who needed assistance to look after her own personal care. This was a weakness, and she badly wanted to hide it.

The door hissed open behind her and a hand on her shoulder and another under her elbow helped her up.

'I'm not very good at pretending,' he murmured, and she heard it as an apology.

He had already removed his tunic and stripped off his trousers with one hand while she commanded the shower on and adjusted the temperature. They stepped under the water together.

'This situation does have its advantages,' he remarked, putting his hands on her shoulders and running up both sides of her neck, his thumbs massaging her spine.

She swayed, beginning to relax, smelt a familiar scent and then his fingers worked their way over her scalp. 'My hair didn't need washing,' she complained, but he ignored her, continued to lather and rinse with minute attention to detail and she felt the tension and stress wash away with the suds.

He began soaping up her shoulders, her arms, and she turned to face him, both so that she could cover the smooth expanse of his chest with slippery lubrication, but also for the kissing. She hadn't wanted him to kiss her, and she'd avoided it during the first few times they'd had sex, but once she'd had a taste of his mouth in the throne room she wanted it again, as many times as possible.

It was like she was connecting with a deeper part of him through that contact, he seemed to lose his conscious self the minute she opened her mouth and it was easy to believe that he really cared when his arms were around her and his lips were on hers. She stretched up, found his mouth and it was the kiss she concentrated on, although he lifted her easily, pinned her back against the wall, locked her legs around his waist and strained inside her until he came.

'I don't think you should do any more troop inspections anyway,' she said, when he was drying her hair and it had become apparent that they wouldn't be leaving the bedroom for the rest of the day. 'I think you should train with the army, not inspect it. You've done so much training, maybe you should pass it on.' She could tell he didn't like that that idea because the friction on her head grew harder for a second.

'My training was completely different to army drills. There's no comparison.'

She twitched the towel out of his grasp would have liked to return the favour except that he was too tall for her to reach his head, and settled for passing a dry towel gently over his feet, his calves, his thighs while he gazed at her kneeling in front of him, and his groin tried to respond, but couldn't quite manage it so soon.

'What were you trained in, exactly?'

'I was trained to rule.'

'I don't think so. You don't seem to know how to run an empire, not all the administration that goes with it. I think Hux was trained to rule.'

He bent down, raised her to her feet with a scowl. 'You think he should be on the throne?'

'No. But I've seen your training. I don't think Snoke was training you to succeed him. I think he was training you to get up.'

He tugged her behind him back into the bedroom, threw her on the bed and climbed on after her. 'Open your legs.' His expression held a threat that sent a wave of excitement crashing through her, and she separated her thighs, trying to prepare herself for whatever he had planned.

'What do you mean you've seen my training? Wider.'

She complied, backtracking on her careless admission. 'I mean, I've seen the outcome of it. I've seen you fight and I've seen you rule, and you're much better at one than the other.'

He showed her his right hand, at very close range, and then shoved all four fingers into her mouth. 'Massive hands,' he commented. 'You're going to want them wet.'

She sucked on his fingers as directed and he withdrew them after only a few moments.

'I can do more than get up.' One of his fingers pushed its way inside her, pressing deep and she shuddered, her hips raising off the bed as that finger found the right angle and pulsed gently in and out, and then not so gently as she spread herself wider and welcomed him in.

'I'm fucking your cunt with my finger, Rey. Do you like it?'

She grimaced. He was good at what he was doing, but she didn't want to hear him tell her all about it as well, especially not in that sort of language. The motion of his hand slowed, shallower now and much less satisfying.

'If you want to come Rey, you're going to have to do exactly as I say.' His finger resumed its penetration, thrusting deep inside her. 'Now what am I doing to you?'

She swallowed, wanting more but not really ready to surrender.

'Rey?' His hand slowed again and the orgasm faded.

She sighed. 'You're fucking my cunt with your finger.'

'Fingers,' he corrected because there were two inside her now, two fingers driving deep and then separating, stretching apart her tight walls and she gasped. 'Do you like it?'

She could feel the wedge of his knuckles against her opening, the redundant digits he had stationed there, waiting. His fingers pumped away in her cunt.

'Yes,' she said.

'Do you want another finger inside you?'

She paused for a bit too long and he slowed down again, her climax receding and she whimpered at its loss. 'Yes.'

As a reward, he moved his hand again, pounding into her while renewed pleasure scrolled up her spine. 'What do you want me to do to you?'

She'd got the hang of this now. He was trying to make a point, in a way she wouldn't forget. 'Fuck my cunt with your fingers.'

'Good.' Three fingers wedged her open and any dream she'd ever had about being filled was beginning to come true. She remembered how big his hands were from all the time she'd spent watching them and now she was taking them in, fitting them inside her and the orgasm they'd give her was going to be seismic.

'Do you want another finger, Rey?'

She licked dry lips, opened her legs to the widest extent possible in preparation. 'Yes. Yes. I want you to fuck my cunt with your fingers.' She waited, panting with anticipation, a slave to the tight push and pull, the snug fit inside her.

'No. I don't think that's what you really want. I've seen you looking at my hands. You want them shoved inside you, don't you? Fingers aren't enough. You want me to fuck you with my fist.'

There was something about the crude way he was talking to her, the explicit manner in which he laid bare her secret fantasies that made her even more turned on than she already was. The steady rhythm of his fingers became a lot more smooth, the squelching noises more apparent, and wetness slathered her thighs. She closed her eyes and his voice came from much closer to her ear.

'Isn't that right?'

She simply nodded, not wanting to admit it out loud. 'You'd do anything to feel my fist inside you, wouldn't you? Anything at all.'

Another nod.

He sounded smug, self satisfied. 'See. I rule you. You'll do anything I want.'

She didn't get the chance to find out how massive his hand really was though, or whether she could fit it between her legs, because she felt the tip of his fourth finger probing at her, the press of his thumb about to follow suit and then everything was too tight to bear and the orgasm flooded out of her. Her whole body convulsed around his fingers and that stimulation shook her again and again, soaking the bed with the force of her climax. Tears sprang unbidden into her eyes and she came so hard she cried with it. He lay next to her afterwards while the bright stars of oxygen deprivation spangled her sight and the muscle memory of his fingers faded into a dim glow.

'I don't think that counts,' she murmured.

She didn't tell him the truth that she found inside herself, a truth that remained long after the climax receded. She wasn't sure where it had come from, or how long it had been there, but she was certain she'd do anything for him anyway, whether he was fucking her cunt with his fingers or not.

I also write romance novels. The Car Crash Bride and The Postman's Daughter by Sally Anne Palmer are available now on Amazon in print or download.


	25. Chapter 25

Her eyes opened to a lightsaber on the bedside table, which she hadn't noticed before. Some kind of alarm had gone off and the lights were on, but dimly. Ben's hand was draped possessively over her breast, the warmth of his cock against her backside, a different kind of alarm.

Despite the fact that she'd had sex with him more times in a single day than she'd had with anyone else in a lifetime, he was ready to begin again. Her clitoris was so sore she winced at the thought of him touching it, so she tried to slow her breathing and pretend that she was still asleep, examining the weapon through a crack in her eyelids.

She wasn't annoyed that he'd finished it, even though she'd told him not to, and it took her a moment's thought to work out why. That lightsaber marked the history of their relationship. It was broken in the struggle between them, and then he'd used it as a bargaining chip, offering to help her make another as a way to trap and imprison her. But something had changed, and he'd given her a replacement crystal, left her alone to work out what she wanted to do with it and then helped her reforge a new weapon, to her design but with his resources until the final object was a mixture of them both. He knew she might end up killing him with it; he had nothing to gain from helping her and everything to lose but he'd done it anyway. Actions mattered to him, not words and this action told her everything she needed to know.

The lightsaber said he would do anything for her without a thought for himself, in the same way she'd do anything for him.

She asked, 'What colour is it?' as if that was the key point at stake.

'I haven't switched it on.' Of course he was already awake.

'Thank you,' she said. Then she rolled over and kissed him, despite her morning breath and her bruised lips and the ache in her loins from too much use, and he wrapped his fingers around hers. That touch lasted through the beginning of another day, he didn't seem to judge her for needing a steadying hand while she was putting on her trousers, or for the arm around her waist when she was fixing her hair.

She paused just in front of the door. 'How are we going to manage this?'

He gave her an amused look. 'You'll have to sit in front of me on the floor.' A grin followed up the look and it set a fire of happiness in her heart to see his face form that expression at will. 'Or better still, kneel in front of me on the floor.'

'Can't we both stand?'

'You could sit on my knee.'

'I could sit on the arm of the chair.'

'Too casual. I'll just have to get Level 16 to make a bigger throne. Today we'll have to do the best we can.'

His hand brushed the small of her back and to the Praetorian Guard who formed up into their usual ranks to complete the short journey to the throne room it would have appeared that the Supreme Leader was simply solicitous and polite, keeping his lover on her feet after a heavy night on her back. Rey paused the minute they'd stepped across the threshold.

Hux was sitting on the throne.

Kylo felt all the lightness that had floated around inside him since he'd woken up calcify, and plummet back into anger. Hux lounged on the seat as if he owned it, which simply stoked the rage sparking to life inside him, and he stalked towards the throne, stopping in the petitioners' position just in front.

He nodded, injected a threat into his tone. 'You're in my chair.'

Hux spread his manicured fingers possessively over the smooth metal. 'This is my chair. I was trained to rule, not you.'

Kylo absorbed this, slid his hand from Rey's back to tap the underside of her wrist in warning, and then moved his free hand towards his lightsaber. In response, the Praetorian Guard formed a protective circle as their protocols demanded, sealing himself and Rey away from the danger that threatened. From his position up on the dais, Hux gazed down over their heads.

Kylo couldn't understand Hux's play – the man was alone, probably armed, but a single blaster was no threat to two Force users and a host of well trained bodyguards. Hux must be so desperate at being thrown out of the First Order he'd try anything to return, even this desperate gamble.

'I gave you a chance to leave voluntarily. Now I'm going to remove you by force,' he grated.

A flicker at the corner of his eye was Rey's new lightsaber leaping into her hand but he decided to opt for the personal touch, stretching out his fingers into the clawed grasp of a chokehold so he didn't need to let go of her. Hux raised a finger swiftly, and as one, the Praetorian Guard went for their weapons, but instead of the swords and staves Kylo was expecting, ordinary blasters appeared instead. As one, the circle of protectors turned inwards, pointed their guns at him.

No, he corrected swiftly, pointed their guns at Rey. Kylo paused his attack on Hux's throat. Rey's hand turned in his grasp, and she laced her fingers through his securely.

Hux was speaking but he was ignoring Kylo now and addressing her. 'You won't get a chance to test that out, I'm afraid. Put it down and let go of his hand.'

'And if I don't?' Her voice was dangerous, and Kylo couldn't resist the flash of pride that brought with it.

'The Praetorian Guard will shoot you. All of them, all at once. I know your powers are formidable, greater even than his, even when you're asleep, but I also know you are still vulnerable to blaster fire. Drop the weapon.'

She came back defiant, as Kylo knew she would. 'You know nothing about me, or my powers. Get off the throne.'

Hux gave a smile that grew across his face like spreading mould. 'I've seen the footage. I've spoken to your doctor. I know you have the power to protect yourself from harm because when dear Ben here tried to take your arm off with his lightsaber, he failed.'

Rey's fingers clenched, and she whispered, 'What's he talking about?'

There was no point trying to conceal it, even if Hux was lying about the existence of a recording the General could still call Rey's doctor to corroborate. 'You won't remember. It happened when you were unconscious.'

'And you tried to chop my arm off?'

'You would have done the same.'

'No, I wouldn't. I could have killed you when you were unconscious, but I let you live, remember?'

'This was different.'

She paused for a minute. 'If I was unconscious when you attacked me why do I still have my arm?'

Hux made a show of selecting the right button, pushed something on the throne with a finger and a gap in the floor opened, a round viewscreen rising into sight which quickly filled with a ceiling mounted perspective of a bed, and a woman lying prone on it, with two men surrounding her.

'You have powers that he doesn't,' Hux explained, as one of the black figures attempted to hit the woman as she lay there unresisting, and was repulsed. 'You fell from a great height, but you weren't injured. You can't be hit. You can't be hurt.' The man on screen tried his best to maim or kill the defenceless, sleeping woman on the bed with his lightsaber, his intent clear even though there was no sound.

Kylo felt Rey's fingers release until only the slightest touch still connected them.

Hux continued, 'The only thing you are vulnerable to is remote fire. I don't know why Ben hasn't mentioned this to you before.'

Her eyes were on him, Kylo could feel them burning a hole in the side of his face, but he couldn't think of anything to use as an exculpation. 'If you shoot her, I'll kill you.' He decided to threaten Hux instead.

The other man smiled that predator smile. 'If I kill her, I kill you too, isn't that how this works? That's what she said. And I don't want you dead, not yet. You've made quite a dent in my support with all your little messages on Holonet. People I rely on are questioning my loyalty. You need to record one final interview, in which you hand over power to me, or I'll kill her.'

Kylo rolled a shoulder. 'You know I'm not going to do that.'

'I just thought I'd ask. If you change your mind later, let me know. I have enough surveillance footage to fake you doing anything I like anyway.'

Hux shifted on the throne and Kylo could feel the pressure to do something build. There were too many blasters trained on Rey for him to be able to stop them all at once, which meant he had to initiate an assault, thin out the ranks of the red traitors before they could shoot. His hand went for his weapon with the speed of long practice and experience, and he hoped that Rey would think just as quickly, use her powers to sweep away the guards as she'd demonstrated she could do on a number of occasions. He tried to grip her hand more securely at the same time that he made his move but either he fumbled it, or she tried to pull her hand away because when he reached for her fingers, they were no longer there.

The red blade was still on its first swing when the ring of guns fired, and Rey was falling, her legs buckling under her because he'd let her go. The pain blossomed inside him, took root and spread tendrils throughout his limbs but in the brief moment before it swallowed him entirely, he had a glimpse of Rey's crumpled body, her sightless eyes gazing up at him from the floor in reproach.

Then the screaming started.

Through it, he was conscious of a voice he knew coming very close and speaking over the top of the terrible sounds coming out of his mouth.

'I love the noises you make when you're hurting,' Hux remarked calmly. 'Snoke used to let me watch you training sometimes, when he had something planned that was particularly bloody. Yell as much as you like. This is my reward for putting up with you choking me, dragging me across the floor, throwing me in the air. This is my reward for every time you've ignored and undermined me. I'm going to punish you for taking my throne, and just so we're clear, that is my throne, not yours. I was trained to rule, not you, I heard your girlfriend tell you that last night and I agree with her.'

Kylo doubled over onto his side with an effort, attempted to control the convulsions by clamping his arms around his knees, tried to wedge his jaw shut and lessen the volume.

'You're a traitor, you murdered Snoke and you should never have assumed command.' Hux patted his shoulder. 'Don't worry. You'll pay for that too. The question is, what should she pay for? What should I do to the lovely Rey?'

He had Kylo's full attention now, and he exerted more self control than he knew he possessed to open his eyes and blink up at Hux's smug face.

'Look at her, Ben, she can't move. I'm not sure she's even breathing, and she's completely helpless. I can do whatever I like to her, can't I?'

Kylo would have killed him on the spot had he been able to make his body stop shaking. The lightsaber was out of reach, flung across the floor by his fall, although he couldn't have grasped it properly even had he been able to summon it closer. He attempted to focus, and the amount of training he'd done should have prepared him for this, but when he tried to reach for the Force, to smash Hux over the other side of the room, it eluded him, his mental concentration too scattered by physical pain to bring it under control.

'Don't worry.' Hux's voice came so close he was practically whispering into Kylo's ear. 'My fist will keep her cunt warm for you. That's what she likes, isn't it?'

Kylo thrashed desperately, in an attempt to get any part of his body to connect with Hux but even the anger boiling inside him wasn't enough to rescue him from the pain.

'Unless, that is…you want to do that interview for me? You could save her from being fucked by the entire Praetorian Guard if you do exactly as I say.'

With an effort, Kylo stopped fighting, raised his eyes to meet Hux's inquiring stare, although he wasn't able to speak.

'Will you do that Ben? Will you do whatever I want so you can save her?'

There was a chance that Rey could protect herself, she had the power to control minds, and no one could hit her hard enough to do her any physical damage. But if she was unconscious, she wouldn't be able to compel a room full of men to turn around and walk away, and as long as they didn't actually punch her she'd lie there helpless while they stuck themselves between her legs, one by one. Even if she survived long enough to wake up she'd never be the same again. He couldn't allow that to happen. Kylo could only blink in assent to the question he'd been asked.

Hux reached out, patted his arm. 'Good boy.'

Although the pain still wracked his body, at least he knew that the threat to Rey had been averted, he could endure whatever Hux wanted him to do as long as she was safe.

Hux straightened back up, folded his arms. 'Unfortunately, I've changed my mind. There's nothing you can do to save her from what I've got planned. I just wanted to find out whether that trick you used on Dameron would work on you too, and I see you're just as pathetic as him. All I have to do is threaten her, and you'll do anything I want. You're not Supreme Leader, you're not worthy of the title. You're weak. You're in love and you're weak and because of that, Rey is mine.' He kicked Kylo in the side, but the man on the floor barely felt it. 'Torture doesn't have to be physical, Ben. Snoke taught me that. But in your case, it will be.'

Kylo was lifted by red gloved hands onto a hover stretcher and shunted away, and although the pain intensified, his fear for Rey tortured him more.


	26. Chapter 26

Rey became conscious. She couldn't describe it as waking, it was nothing that sudden, but one minute her awareness of herself was dim and distant and then it slowly sharpened and focused until she remembered she had a body somewhere, even though it didn't seem to be doing as it was told. Everything was dark, but although she couldn't open her eyes the red glow of light through blood told her she was no longer dreaming. She was cold, particularly her arms and legs, and her back ached from the hard surface on which she lay. The odd footstep in the background and the rustle of clothing indicated she wasn't alone.

There was something covering her face, and the longer she lay there the greater a need to breathe she felt, but that automatic switch between body and mind seemed to have finally been severed, and although her brain called for air, her lungs failed to respond. She panicked, tried to move, couldn't so much as shift her little finger. Then there was a hissing and her chest heaved, all on its own, oxygen flooded her mouth and nose and she became aware of the pulse thudding in her ears, and shortly afterwards, of the pressure of something resting on her chest – the machinery sustaining it.

She was in a medical bay somewhere, the smell pervading the air matched the scent she'd detected on Ben once, after he'd collapsed, and she was being kept alive artificially. The last thing she remembered was a flash of disappointment, and then she'd been shot. Ben had been trying to grip her hand, but she hadn't wanted him that close after the revelation he'd tried to kill her and kept the extent of her powers secret. It was the secrecy that bothered her more, she'd always expected him to make an attempt on her life, but he hadn't seen fit to talk to her about the abilities she seemed to possess, presumably hoping that if he kept silent, she might not realise the extent of her powers. Or maybe he assumed that she already knew.

Either way, that moment of doubt had caused her to let go of Ben's hand and now she was helpless, alive, but unable to move and clearly a long way from whatever was happening to him.

A man's hand touched her leg, just above her knee at first and then sliding upwards on a slow glide to rest possessively on her inner thigh. The thought that it might be Hux made her skin crawl, but there was nothing she could do to either protest or shake him off.

She was about to attempt something from the Jedi books when a voice she didn't know said, 'To demonstrate, she can be touched gently.'

Another hand inserted itself between her legs and her thighs were separated with rough force. The fingers crept closer, uncomfortably close to the place that Ben had made his own. 'You can use her without fear of retaliation.'

'Remove your hands.' Hux's tone was icy. 'I've already seen as much of her as I ever want to.'

'Supreme Leader?' Whoever the other man was, he worked for Hux and Rey's legs were replaced, side by side.

'I have surveillance everywhere, including in the traitor's quarters. This woman has spent large parts of the last few days naked so if her clothes could stay on for once, I'd appreciate it.'

'Supreme Leader.'

Rey felt the distinctive brush of a sheet cover her legs.

'Is she conscious?'

There was a slight pause, some beeping. 'Minimally. Not enough to use her powers.'

Hux's voice came again, from closer this time. 'I'm not a cruel man, Rey. I know you will find that difficult to believe at the moment, but I assure you it's true. I reward the loyalty of my staff, I don't kill them if they disobey me. I try to lead through respect, not command with fear. I make consistent decisions and I reserve my wrath for our enemies. I am the leader that the First Order needs.

Ben Solo was never supposed to take charge, Snoke simply kept him around because his powers were useful, and because he enjoyed inflicting pain on such a willing recipient. Snoke knew his secret. Terrifying as he tried to make himself appear, Kylo Ren was never going to be a Sith, but he took all the punishment Snoke could dish out because he thought he deserved it. There was no higher goal, he wasn't being trained to rule, the 'training' served no useful purpose other than to let that traitor feel better about himself. He wanted to be punished. He wanted to be beaten. He wanted to hurt. He still does. I am simply granting that wish.'

He took a breath. 'But I have nothing personal against you. When you first came on board, I thought that we had much in common – we both wanted the Supreme Leader dead, and we both wanted new authority for the First Order. I thought you would be the one to kill him for me, and I was prepared to support your escape afterwards, as long as you left the Order as mine to rule. But the longer you remained on board the more I came to understand the nature of the bond between you, and I learned that the physical element is the least of its strength. You no longer wish to strike him down. You are no longer part of the Resistance, you stand with him, and you have left me no choice.

I am not a cruel man Rey, and because of that, I am going to kill you, but I don't intend it personally. I won't cause you unnecessary pain. Ben Solo must die, and his sufferings over the last few days, although enjoyable to watch, have now become depressing, even for me, and I need to bring this episode in the Order's history to an end.

As I watch him die, I will think of you. Thank you for making his death possible. Goodbye.'

There was a rustle and his voice came from further away. 'It will take me ten minutes or so to get to him but when you receive my signal, switch off her life support.'

Rey's state of consciousness went from minimal to fully awake as the words were spoken, but because her heart rate and respiration were automatically controlled, her body gave no sign. Death was coming, and it was the helpless, humiliating death she feared. She reached out with her powers immediately, searching for something in the room to fling at Hux or the doctor, but although she could feel metal structures around her, the weight of the bond which kept her flat on the bed also kept the Force within herself. She tried again, this time seeking another brain she might be able to control, but her body was a prison and it kept her mind locked inside, unable to touch or move anything in the physical world.

The hiss of a door signalled Hux's departure and Rey panicked silently, knowing her time was running out. Hux had suggested she had been apart from Ben for several days at least, which must mean that the bond had reached its full extent, she'd have to touch him if she wanted to live, to breathe on her own, but she couldn't move, couldn't get out, and by the sound of it he was in no fit state to come to her.

Her chest moved as the respirator gave her another shot of oxygen, and, knowing that there might not be too many more, she made her decision. There was no hope of rescue, but she wasn't willing to leave him like this, not with so much unsaid. The price extracted would be terrible, but she was about to pay it anyway, so it didn't matter. Reaching back into her memory she found the passage in the Jedi texts which had been waiting patiently for an opportunity, the same lesson Luke had used to appear on Crait.

She couldn't leave her bed, but that didn't mean she couldn't go to Ben and even if the effort killed her what did it matter? She was going to die anyway. She sank inside herself, concentrated hard, found the state of calm she needed, free from bodily distractions and then she wondered where to begin. She knew from the recording of Crait that she'd be visible, if insubstantial, so she couldn't just wander the corridors without Hux's surveillance picking her up and she didn't know where Ben was being held. Since the General wasn't travelling far, he must still be on board, so the prison wing seemed like a reasonable place to start.

She imagined the cell she'd woken up in once, the one with the hole in the ceiling and wished herself there. The transition was instantaneous. One minute it was dark, the next she was in a white walled room standing on her feet, wearing her favourite outfit, lightsaber by her side. The room was empty and since she wasn't really here and didn't need doors, she simply walked through the wall into the next room along. That too was abandoned, although it held a dirty interrogation chair, covered in dark splatters, with globules of something meaty scattered all over the floor. Her hallucinatory heart pounded, she didn't have long and there must be hundreds of cells on this level, she didn't have time to search every one.

She felt it then, a waver in the Force, somewhere over to the right, faint and feeble but it felt familiar and along with the sensation came a whisper, half word, half thought with only the faintest trace of breath behind it.

'Seventy-two. Thirteen. Thirty.'

She followed the words like a trail of breadcrumbs, slipping across the corridor behind the backs of patrolling guards, ghosting through doors.

'Seventy-two. Fourteen.'

She surprised another prisoner, stepping into and out of his room quickly while he blinked his eyes, held out a hand, but worse was the captive who simply stared at her without reaction, too brutalised to care.

'Seventy-two. Fourteen. Thirty.'

Then Ben was in front of her, in a small cell so bright it made her imaginary eyes hurt, lying on the floor as if he were already dead. He wasn't bound or fettered in any way, it clearly wasn't necessary. His body shuddered at regular intervals, but the convulsions were tiny, the exhausted tremor of muscles pushed beyond endurance. His fingernails had bitten arcs of flesh from his palms. His face was caked in dried spittle, his hair crusted into hard ropes with the residue and his jaw was clamped shut, teeth bared in a rictus smile. His eyes were fixed and unseeing.

'Seventy-Two. Fifteen.'

She wasn't sure if the words were coming from his stricken throat, or whether the Force was simply amplifying his thoughts, and she hesitated for a second to see if he knew she was there.

'Seventy-two. Fifteen. Thirty.'

He was counting. She realised with a start that he was counting, focusing on that in an attempt to maintain control. And what he was counting was time. Seventy-two hours, fifteen minutes, thirty seconds or, as Hux had put it – a few days.

Ben was counting the time since he'd seen her last.

Something inside her broke, a thin, protective shell that had been eroded away over the last few weeks until now there was nothing left. She knelt beside him, put her hand on his cheek and hoped that he'd feel it in whatever hell he walked.

'I can't breathe without you,' she said. It wasn't quite what was in her heart, but she knew he wouldn't accept those three words no matter what condition he was in.

His eyes rolled, but slowly, so slowly she could feel his struggle under her palm. Where the bond had trapped her in her body, left her unable to act, it caged him with pain, destroyed his ability to concentrate, to speak.

She willed him to focus, poured all her effort into making the touch of her hand substantial enough to revive even a fraction of the connection between them. His voice was a harsh whisper when it finally left this throat. 'It hurts.' He sucked in a rasp of air. 'When you're not here.'

The understatement filled her eyes and she touched him with her other hand, wanting to hold him in her arms one last time. 'I'm sorry.' The words spilled out of her mouth, watered by tears. 'I'm sorry that it had to end like this. I'm sorry that we didn't have more time. I'm sorry that you've been hurt again, when you've already been through so much. It isn't fair. None of this is fair.'

'Died,' he cut in. 'Luke died. Doing this.' His fingers made a weak curling action and she realised that he understood exactly how she'd come to be there, and what the consequences were.

She clutched his hand. 'It doesn't matter. I'm dead already. Hux is on his way here and as soon as he arrives he's going to switch off the life support that's keeping me alive and when I die, you'll die too. But I couldn't let you go without seeing you again. I wanted to tell you that I wasn't pretending, it was all real to me. Everything. Every moment we were together. It felt like it was real because it was.'

His throat worked. 'Go,' he said.

She got as far as, 'What?' before her hand groped at her chest and she faded away.

He struggled to hold on to the scrap of calm her presence had brought him, but he was falling into shadow again, his vision dimming, lost in the dark. She was dying somewhere not far away, she was taking her last breath and the light in her eyes was going out, but he was still falling, and he couldn't stop.

He had always been part of the darkness, it had owned him most of his life and now it offered protection, comfort, the end of pain. But even as he let go he felt it again, the call to the light. This time it was a little voice from somewhere deep down inside and it said, 'Get up.'

He listened for it, and it came again, steady and determined. 'Get up.'

He did nothing, cowering in the shadows away from the torture of the waking world.

'Get up,' it said, and this time it sounded like her, a little bit of Rey still lingering in his memory. 'I don't think he was training you to succeed him,' she said. 'I think he was training you to get up.'

He wanted to reject the idea outright, but he could tell the voice was waiting for an answer. Could it be right, he wondered, sunk so far inside himself he couldn't feel anything anymore. Could it be that all his training had been for nothing?

He hadn't succeeded as a Jedi, and he hadn't succeeded as a Sith either, he'd tried both and failed. All those years of training, all that struggle and effort, the pain and the punishment, the small, hard-won victories, the constant disappointment, the striving to do better, and where had it left him, here at the end of his life? Helpless and on his back in a prison cell, unable to save himself or the woman he loved.

It was easier to admit that now it no longer mattered, easier to look back and acknowledge that the feelings he'd had from the beginning had never really gone away despite her refusal to join him. He'd told her he wouldn't ask twice, but he saw now that he'd ask a thousand times if there was any chance he'd get a different answer.

And somewhere nearby she was dying alone.

Anger saved him, anger always saved him, and it came boiling out of his guts, raw and primal, reenergising exhausted muscles, stiffening bone and sinew, sparking nerves into new life. Rage, hot and quick, burning through him stronger than the pain. Fury at all the years he'd wasted striving for impossible goals he would never achieve, the years spent being knocked down which had taught him only one thing – how to get up.

Focus. Concentration. Breathing through it.

He opened his eyes, let the anger surge, strong emotion, under control and before the pain of the bond could sink him again he ripped open the cuts on the palm of his right hand, working his fist swiftly until a pool of blood gathered on the floor. His left hand raised, and he called the lightning, flowing out through his fingers strong and sure and as he blasted the red smear he spoke the words of the Balc incantation which would break the bond for good.


	27. Chapter 27

He was expecting some kind of sign, an invisible concussion of sound, a rush of heat maybe, some kind of indication that he'd succeeded and that the chain connecting him to her had been severed. But there was nothing, and all he felt was tired, exhaustion on an overwhelming level and he fell back, prone on the floor, unable to make his limbs move without anger to sustain him. His mind was sluggish with fatigue and it took a while to process the fact that underneath the tiredness, there was no more pain. His constant companion of the last few days had vanished, leaving him to struggle with the aftermath of its visit, while the cause itself had gone. He was free. It didn't feel like freedom though, as he lay flat on his back with his eyes flickering shut and sleep taking over, the feeling inside him felt more like sadness.

The voice came again, and it hadn't lost its impatient ring. 'Get up,' it insisted. 'Get up.'

He remembered why. He was still in prison, his enemy was sitting on his throne, might even be standing at one of the windows into this cell wondering what was going on, and Rey might still be alive. The bond was broken, he wasn't in pain and the connection between them had died, but he still felt an urge to save her, if he could.

Focus. Concentration. Turn it into strength.

This was just tiredness, and he'd been taught to deal with that. He got to his feet heavily, a flood of resurgent anger spurring him on, and he ripped the door open with a slight gesture and the channelled rage he felt at everyone who had ever told him what to do. Beyond the door the white corridor of the prison level stretched in front of him, along with a few of the prison detail, who probably looked surprised under their helmets. He swept them aside, headed for the command station where they'd have impounded his lightsaber.

There were no ship wide alarms sounding as yet - maybe Hux was too busy trying to get to the nearest escape pod to have triggered them. Let him run, thought Kylo, he can't escape forever. Calling his weapon he ignited it, swept through the ship murderous and fully armed, daring any of Hux's staff to stand in his way. As far as he was concerned the entire First Order had supported this coup, and they were all punishable for their rebellion.

He made it to the medical level without incident, sought out the physician he'd spoken to before when Rey had fallen through the ceiling and located him hiding in a cupboard, afraid for his life. 'Where is she?' he demanded. 'Is she dead?'

'No, my lord. I cut off her life support and her heart stopped beating, but then something happened and she came back almost immediately. There was no damage. She's perfectly fine, I assure you.'

Kylo fisted his hand in the man's uniform, hauled him out of hiding. 'You cut off her life support?'

'Under orders, Supreme Leader. I was following the orders of General Hux. I had to obey.'

Kylo felt his grip relax slightly, wanting to rip out the man's throat but caught by an unusual voice of conscience which told him that obeying orders was what First Order staff were trained to do, and they probably didn't deserve to die for it.

'And is she? Has she been? Did anything else happen to her – did anyone touch her?' He knew he wasn't making much sense, forced himself to ask. 'Was she raped?'

'No, no sir, of course not.' The man shook his head hard enough to strain the muscles in his neck.

Kylo sagged, prepared to let the man go, but the relief in the physician's eyes stopped him. He was too good an interrogator to miss the cue. 'Something else you want to tell me?'

The doctor shook his head, but his mind was easy to read and Kylo saw the image of a hand on Rey's thigh, then hands reaching under the medical gown she'd been put in to separate her legs, and the arousal the physician had felt as he'd offered her defenceless body to Hux, the disappointment he'd experienced when Hux had declined. There was no order to cover that and Kylo left the medic's remains shoved untidily in the cupboard for someone else to clean up.

Rey was alive and had probably left already; she was most likely on her way back to the Resistance in a shuttle even as he wandered the ship stupidly trying to find her. Gritting his teeth, he felt the anger flare again, and turned his steps towards the throne room.

No one he encountered on the way there attempted to kill him, in fact, they all kept their heads down and got out of the way, although every one of them must know that Hux had taken charge. He would deal with that when he was Supreme Leader again and Hux was safely in small pieces in a bag.

The lift doors snapped open on a sea of red. The Praetorian Guard - the remaining members of which would find themselves disbanded if any survived at all – had formed a protective circle around the throne, and another ringed the person standing in front of it, someone he couldn't see but whose lightsaber made a distinctive thrumming noise. Too distinctive perhaps, since the only other one in existence that made that particular vibration was currently in his hand. The blade was a faint purple colour, he noted with interest, or, depending on how you looked at it, was blue mixed with a hint of red. He grinned to himself, felt some of the fatigue lift, and headed towards the fight with a spring in his step.

Halfway there the Praetorian Guard turned as one, dropped their weapons and marched out of the hall, doors locking behind them. From the throne General Hux fired a blaster bolt, which Kylo paused in mid air without a thought, stepped around, and then allowed to hit the back wall. Hux's smug façade began to crack the closer he approached, swishing his blade through the air and beginning to enjoy himself for the first time in many days.

'He's mine,' Rey snarled, and he pulled up short, blinking.

Despite the fact she'd compelled the guards to leave and was in no danger from Hux she hadn't extinguished her blade and its tip was angled in his direction. With a sensation of pain so sharp it made him bite the inside of his cheek, he recognised the expression on her face as anger. The bond was broken, and she hated him again, of course she did. There was no artificial link between them now, her true feelings were revealed, naked loathing curling the lips he'd kissed, the body he knew inside and out tensed into a fighting stance. He watched her glaring at him and for once, anger wasn't his first reaction, it was grief.

It was ridiculous to expect that his feelings towards her had changed during the short journey from the prison level and he loved her as much now as he'd always done, although she was preparing to kill him. He steadied himself. 'I think he's mine,' he replied mildly, keeping his own weapon up.

'He killed me. He switched my life support off,' she grated, outrage in her tone.

Kylo shrugged. 'He organised a rebellion against me. Poisoned me. Took my throne. Threatened to rape you. Locked me in a cell and laughed at me through a window. He's also trying to escape.'

Rey whirled, lifted Hux from his position halfway to the door and pinned him back on the throne again. 'Alright, he's yours,' she conceded. 'But that doesn't mean I've forgiven you.' She came forward a few paces, and every step appeared to make her more annoyed.

'And what do I need forgiveness for?' He thought he could probably talk her out of this if he remained calm.

'You knew how to break the bond. You knew all the time and you lied to me about it. You could have stopped all this any time you wanted but you let me suffer. I died, Ben. My heart stopped beating, I couldn't breathe and I died. I was terrified, and you let me go through all of that even though you could have stopped it. Why would you do that to me?'

'I didn't know the whole time.' He let the lightsaber point towards the floor, minimising its threat. 'I only worked it out a day or two before he turned up.' He nodded at Hux.

'How can I trust anything you say?' she asked, thrusting out her chin and beginning to circle. 'You didn't tell me you knew how to set us free. You didn't tell me you tried to kill me when I was knocked out. You didn't mention the things I can do. What else haven't you told me? I can't trust you.'

'I'm not lying.' He had to track her movements, although he didn't believe she had it in her to actually kill him.

'Why didn't you break the bond as soon as you found out?' She waved her blade at him for emphasis.

'I didn't want to.'

'Why not?'

'You know why not.'

'I do.' She came at him with a lunge that had some power behind it and he had to block the shot, although he didn't hit her back.

She continued, 'You were enjoying fucking me too much. I couldn't leave you as long as we were connected, and you wanted to take advantage of me for as long as possible. You were using me. You wanted me in your bed and you didn't care about anything else.' She came at him again, a flurry of blows this time, but he parried them all, feeling every minute of the last few days in the complaints his arms were making at the sudden use. 'Your mother warned me about you. She said, 'love him if you must but don't trust him', and I should have listened. She knows you better than I do.'

He hit out at her for that, his temper flaring, pausing when she simply danced away from his lumbering strokes. 'Do you love me?' he demanded. 'You said it was real. You said every minute we were together you weren't pretending.'

She came back at him with the lightsaber, angry blows and he started to wonder if she were going to kill him, after all. 'That was the bond talking, not me,' she hissed. 'I said it because I thought I was dying at the time and you didn't bother to tell me any different. You told me you hadn't found a cure. You let me carry on believing you, trusting you, sleeping with you, and it was all a lie. You let me die. I can't love you. Nothing I felt for you was real.'

He'd had enough. In his current state, he couldn't have beaten her even if he'd tried, and he had no desire to try. He toggled the switch to turn off his weapon, stood directly in front of her and allowed her to take her best shot. 'I didn't want to break the bond because I didn't want you to leave. I love you.'

She laughed at him, a short, mirthless bark of scorn. 'More lies,' she snapped. 'Nothing you say is true. 'I love you' doesn't mean anything to you at all. You said so yourself.' She squared up to him, and he'd never seen her more enraged. 'You have no idea what love is. You're prepared to do anything, say anything to get what you want, no matter what the cost to anyone else. Actions matter, not words and I judge you by your actions, Kylo Ren.'

He took two steps forward, determined to show her he meant it with a kiss, but a blaster bolt caught him in the shoulder and he sprawled backwards, hitting the floor with a heavy smack.

Rey whirled, seeking the source of the attack. 'Poe?'

She clipped her lightsaber back onto her belt automatically, her attention held by the sight of her friend, gaunt and haggard but very much alive, and a completely unexpected sight in the middle of the throne room.

'Poe? What are you doing here?' How did you get on board?'

Poe didn't remove his eyes from the black figure bleeding on the floor behind her. 'Stay away from her,' he roared.

'So glad you could join us, Commander,' General Hux, forgotten until now, came off the throne with a bound, his own blaster springing back into view and he strode across the room. Rey could tell by the smug expression on his face that Poe's appearance had something to do with him.

She looked back at her friend, frowning. 'Poe?'

He glared over her shoulder. 'I was captured out scouting for bases, weeks ago. I've been kept in a cell on my own, apart from the times when he came in to torture me.'

Rey was confused, since the direction of his gaze took in both rival Supreme Leaders, the one still on the floor and the other standing over the first with a blaster. 'Ben or General Hux?'

'Kylo Ren,' Poe corrected. 'Kylo fucking Ren. Who threatened you, if I didn't tell him everything he wanted.' He glanced at her, and there were tears in his eyes. 'I told them everything Rey, every time someone came into my cell I spilled my guts and it still wasn't enough to save you. I'm so sorry. He said he'd force you and he did. Someone played the recording to me just before the door released a few minutes ago.' His face darkened, and the tears disappeared. 'Him, sitting on the throne, and you, on your knees in front of him, forced to suck him off. I'm so sorry.'

Rey scrambled to keep up. 'Kylo knew you were here? He's been torturing you for information all this time?' She looked over her shoulder with a question but Hux's back blocked her view. 'He didn't tell me. I didn't know.' She thought for a second. 'Leia said that the First Order had picked you up but when I checked the prison level the system told me it was empty. He must have blocked my access, so I wouldn't find out they were holding you.' She put a hand on his arm. 'I'm sorry too. I didn't know you were here. I would have rescued you if I'd known.'

The anger that had burned inside her since she'd woken in the medical bay after experiencing death in all its terrible glory and realising the extent of Ben's lies, fanned back into life. Here was another reason not to trust him. She didn't believe that he'd only recently found out how to undo Snoke's handiwork - he might have engineered this whole situation just to get some kind of perverted revenge on her for rejecting his offer to join him all those weeks ago. This was probably all part of some stupid plan. She'd fallen for it as well, that was the worst part. She'd begun to enjoy herself. She'd relaxed. And she'd let herself love him. The error filled her with shame that she'd been so stupid, rage at his deceit and a terrible, impotent grief at the thought of what she'd lost.

When she'd heard the sound of his lightsaber behind her and realised he was still alive that same feeling of happiness she'd always experienced when he arrived had filled her again. Although the bond was dead, and he'd proven himself a liar, it wasn't that easy to turn off her emotions. Having finally given in to the pretence, acknowledged her feelings as real she couldn't stop loving him, not so quickly, and that made her want to hurt him more. Anger flashed bright and hard. This love was fake, all tricks and lies, and she wanted nothing more to do with it. The sooner she left it behind the better.

'Now I'm going to kill him.' Poe advanced across the shiny floor towards the two opposing leaders and she hurried after him, tugging at his arm to redirect him.

'No. The minute they stop fighting whichever one wins will come after us. If we're going to escape, we need to do it now.'

She was tempted to put an echo of Jedi authority into her words, but when she put her hand on Poe's arm, she realised how much he was shaking. Solitary confinement and enforced inactivity had clearly taken their toll. He resisted for a moment, before allowing her to pull him towards the lifts, and escape.

In the last second before the doors closed behind them she looked back, saw Hux aiming, pulling the trigger at close range and before she could think too hard about it, she reached out with the Force and twitched the gun out of his hand.

Ben stirred, began to get up.


	28. Chapter 28

Poe wanted to steal a fighter, but Rey knew better. 'The fighters can be controlled remotely and self destructed from the bridge. We'll have to take the Supreme Leader's personal craft. That one over there.' She pointed at the shuttle.

'We're going to steal his ship?' Poe grinned, seeming more like his old self for a second.

'It will automatically trigger the hangar doors, if you can work out how to fly it.'

'Leia sent me to get her a ship,' he replied. 'I'm going to come back with a beauty. Imagine that for a grand gesture – the Resistance flying around in Kylo Ren's own shuttle – I love it.'

Rey simply smiled, led the way on board and busied herself logging back into the First Order systems. She retrieved the cache of records she'd archived some time ago, and sent them over to Leia's personal code, and then she searched for the electronic copy of the Jedi texts and deleted it from the databanks. She didn't have time to go back for the books themselves, she'd have to rely on the innate difficulty of the language and Ben's lack of patience for detail to protect them until she could work out how to get them back.

Poe pushed buttons and the ship took off, manoeuvred through the restricted area and then punched out into space. 'Where are we going?' he asked her eventually.

Rey broke off gazing out of the window at the receding Star Destroyer. 'I have no idea.'

'The last I heard the Resistance were hiding on Chandrila, but I gave the First Order their location, so they might all be dead by now.'

She reached over and patted his arm. 'Don't worry about it. Leia's not stupid. She'll have moved on the minute she realised you'd been captured. Nobody stands up to torture from him.' She shied away from saying his name.

'Even you?'

She sighed. 'What you saw me doing on that recording – I'd appreciate it if you didn't mention it to anyone.'

'Are you sure? You should talk to someone about what you've been through. You need help.'

She shrugged. 'I'll get it. But in my own time.'

She spent a while removing the shuttle's links to the First Order fleet, eliminating all the homing beacons and tracking programmes she could find, isolating its communications, changing its identifiers. Then she called Leia's personal code. The General's expression was wary when she eventually answered, not recognising the caller, but her face brightened when she saw both their faces on the screen.

'Well done. Very well done, both of you. Is that the ship I think it is?'

'The Supreme Leader's personal shuttle,' Poe crowed.

'And are you both alright?' The General's eyes flickered between the two of them and lingered on Rey.

'No lasting damage.' The more distance Poe put between him and his cell, the happier he seemed. 'I just need a bath, a soft bed and a long sleep, and then a welcome home party. I haven't spoken to anyone in weeks.'

Rey shot him a glance. 'I thought you said that Kylo Ren tortured you the whole time?'

Poe brushed off the question as if it didn't matter. 'I only spoke to him once. He sent General Hux the other times.'

'And what about you Rey, what do you need?' asked Leia.

'To be alone,' she said. 'I haven't been alone in a while.'

They rendezvoused with the remnants of the Resistance on a jungle planet where both the shuttle and the Falcon would be buried by the rainforest canopy. There was much congratulatory praise for Poe's daring appropriation of the command shuttle and excited debate over how to extract the maximum impact from its capture. The whole discussion seemed small minded and petty to Rey and she slipped off to her bedroom on the Falcon as soon as she was able.

She set the lightsaber down gently on her bedside table and sat on the edge of the mattress. Her room seemed tiny, compared to where she'd been living, grimy and stained, with a second hand, knocked-about air to everything that had once felt homely and now looked cheap. She kicked off her boots, lay back and tried to enjoy being alone. There would be no unexpected interruptions, no one was going to pop up randomly in the corner of her bedroom and challenge her to a fight or threaten to kill her. She was alone, and she was going to stay alone and that was a blessing for which she should be grateful. No one would touch her, or kiss her, or hold her hand under the table, she'd left all that behind.

The door buzzed, and the General slipped through it, joining Rey on the bed. 'Do you want to tell me what happened?'

Rey spread her hands to indicate the impossibility of that task. 'I trusted him, and I shouldn't have. Ben knew how to break the bond all along and he didn't tell me, and he lied to me about a couple of other things as well. He wasn't the person I thought he was, in the end.'

Leia squeezed her knee. 'Who did you think he was?'

'I thought he was better than that.'

'I tried to warn you about him. Was there a reason he lied to you?'

'Because he didn't want me to leave.' She wasn't going to tell his mother about the other things he'd said, especially at the end.

'I see.' There was a long silence. 'He thought you were a tactical asset.'

'Not exactly,' Rey answered slowly. 'It was slightly more personal than that.'

'Personal enough that you were in his bed. Poe seems to think that wasn't voluntary.'

'It wasn't, to begin with. And then it was.'

'Do you regret leaving him?' Leia's question sounded genuine, but Rey no longer trusted her enough to be sure of her motives.

'No.' Her answer was swift and designed to convince. 'He lied to me. I can't trust him.'

'I agree, you can't. The only way to judge a person is by their actions, not their words. That's a truth I've tried to live by for a long time. Here. This is for you.' The older woman pushed a pad into Rey's hands. 'It's a bit late now, but I've been working on it since the last time we spoke, and it might still come in useful, someday.'

Curious, Rey opened the screen. The device held a collection of thoughts on the principles of good governance, and how to apply them in a variety of different political structures.

She glanced up with a query. 'Is this your idea of an apology for the way you treated me?'

Leia shrugged. 'Everything I do, I do for the good of the Resistance. Personal considerations are secondary.'

'Not to me,' Rey muttered, but the General had already left.

She turned on Holonet, hoping for an update. Poe's shot hadn't been life threatening, and when she'd left the First Order she'd been sure that Ben was going to survive and would deal with Hux as he saw fit but the main item on the news was a live stream of an attack on some cartel or other, and the ranking officer was an admiral she didn't know. Ben was nowhere to be seen.

After she'd returned from a long and lonely run in the forest Holonet still hadn't been updated, and for the first time, a knot of doubt twisted her stomach. Maybe Hux had triumphed after all. The possibility niggled at her as she reacquainted herself with the rhythms of rebel life, free from the restrictions imposed by following someone else's routine and the fear of being deprived of her liberty. She sat where she wanted, ate what she wanted, went where she wanted, spoke to her friends, went to Poe's party, argued about intergalactic politics without fear that someone might get killed, but the more she tried to fill the gaping hole inside her, the more it ached.

She kept Holonet on in the background, and when, on the second day of freedom it moved into broadcasting old interviews with the Supreme Leader, old speeches he'd given that she'd watched before she really started to worry. The other broadcasters remarked on it too, buried amongst their coverage of fluctuations in the commodity markets, the latest scandal involving some celebrity or other and the most recent sporting event. Rey went back to her bedroom and picked up the lightsaber, clipping it onto her belt although there was no reason to be armed. She simply felt better with it next to her side.

On the third day since she'd left Ben for dead, Holonet shut down entirely and she became seriously concerned. She'd always assumed that Ben would stay alive until such time as she decided to kill him, but it was starting to look like she'd overestimated his invincibility. The closure of Holonet could be Hux resetting the First Order and preparing to relaunch it in his own image.

The alternative news channels were full of unsubstantiated reports and played nonstop in the background. ' _First Order attacks have been reported on multiple systems across the quadrant, with extensive troop movements underway. Their intentions are unclear and attempts to contact the leadership of the systems in question have proven futile due to heavy bombardment. Underground reports suggest military intervention is extensive and casualties are expected._ '

Leia's fist banged down on the table. 'Finn – you're in charge of intelligence. What's going on?'

Rey sat in the middle of another strategy meeting, although this one had taken on the urgency of a crisis situation as the morning progressed and the voices on the news had become more strident.

Finn hammered away at his terminal. 'There are multiple reports from our allies in other resistance movements. First Order troops are being deployed all over the galaxy but there doesn't seem to be a cohesive pattern. There are Destroyers in various locations, hand to hand combat on individual planets, long range cannon fire on others but no one seems to know what's going on.' He threw up his hands. 'They're doing something, but I'm not sure what.'

'Are they coming here?' Poe asked with a hint of eagerness. 'Are they trying to track us down? We're the biggest threat they face.'

Despite his confidence, Rey thought this was highly unlikely. 'Does it look like they're fighting each other?' she asked Finn. 'Is it a mutiny?'

Leia cut in. 'You're in charge of Kylo Ren, Rey. What do you think he's doing?'

Rey gave her a sour stare. 'Can't I be in charge of something else? Anything else? Communications maybe, or tactics? Or even just lifting rocks?'

'You're the only one here with an intimate knowledge of our enemy. You're in charge of Kylo Ren for the foreseeable future.'

Rey gave Leia a hard look for her deliberate use of the word 'intimate'. 'Ben was injured, last time I saw him, but he doesn't have me as a weakness anymore, so I imagine if he's alive he's still fighting. But I don't really know what's going on.'

'Then this is our chance.' Poe was fired up now, his eyes glowing. 'Let's launch an attack against them while they're distracted.'

'With what?' the General asked, gesturing around. 'We have no support. Two ships. No troops. No backing. No alternative.'

'No influence,' Rey said slowly. 'No power.'

Leia gave her a sharp look. 'But we have independence and we have our freedom.'

'I'd rather have information. And control.' Rey replied, turning back to the news, since she had nothing else to go on.

She barely slept, spending long periods of time just watching the news channels, flicking back to Holonet at regular intervals to check if the First Order logo had been replaced with something more informative. On the fourth day since she'd left Ben she moved her things over to the command shuttle, using its technology to attempt to probe for some reason behind the scattered disturbances happening all over the stars.

Her access codes had been revoked, and the shuttle's databases had been remotely wiped, all connection to the Order lost. When she was alone on board she could still feel it though, wrapping around her with its cold, hard embrace, its authority, its confidence that it was always right. While she didn't miss the army itself, there were parts of her life there she'd have given a lot to get back – the feeling of being listened to, for example, the knowledge that she was making a difference. And late at night when she was alone in bed there were other embraces she thought about, other beds in which she longed to be. If she turned her face far enough into the padding on the bench where they'd sat together and breathed deeply, sometimes she caught a hint of citrus.

Leia joined her on the fifth day, gazing over her shoulder at the blurred pictures of stormtroopers attacking nameless enemies taken from drone footage on terrorised planets. 'This is what chaos looks like,' she said.

'Do we have an alternative to put in place?' Rey asked. 'A new government? Anything?'

'I've called my old contacts in the core systems, and the New Republic, but very few will speak to me, and those who will don't know what's going on. I don't have an alternative to offer until we rebuild. We'll just have to wait and see what happens.'

But Rey had had enough of inactivity, of being paralysed and unable to move, and she wasn't enjoying hiding out in the forest very much. Freedom might have been enough once upon a time, but she'd had a taste of responsibility, she knew her own power and it seemed a strange decision to waste it, sitting around and watching the news instead of trying to alter the course of events. Sometimes, in the dark stretches of the night, she felt as if the bond had never been broken and she was still confined to her bed, suffocating, unable to do anything but watch. In those dark times she hugged the cold, hard casing of her lightsaber to her chest and remembered what it was like when she mattered.

On the sixth day after she'd left Ben, Holonet flipped back into life and Rose came running over to the shuttle to see if Rey had seen the broadcast. It opened on the headline ' _First Order declares peace on the galaxy.'_

In front of shots of Star Destroyers flying in imposing formations and squadrons of fighters racing into space the voiceover said, ' _Today the First Order has set out the laws under which the galaxy will be governed. These rules will apply to every system, every planet, every moon, every colony, no matter how large or small, and will be monitored by local justice arrangements, overseen by a network of First Order courts to which disputes can be escalated.'_

A summary of the various regulations appeared next, some of which Rey recognised from her meetings with Ben's four captains, and others which had a decidedly more benevolent cast.

 _'In anticipation of the introduction of these laws, the First Order provided copies to the warring factions who were already disrupting peace across various systems.'_

A list followed, which Rey skimmed.

 _'The opposing sides in each combat were given the opportunity to surrender to the First Order but none chose to do so, so over the last few days we have conducted a campaign to demilitarise these conflicts.'_

The scene cut to a field of smoke, complete with disabled heavy armaments, transport vehicles bombed out and collapsed, stockpiles of weapons burning.

 _'Here, on Thine, the First Order destroyed the military capability of both sides in the combat and will be overseeing peace talks between the designated leaders of the two factions.'_

There was a sudden burst of inspiring music and Kylo Ren strode out of the smoke, lightsaber in hand, and Rey's heart lurched, a beaming grin spreading across her face. He came close to the recording equipment, released the catches of his mask and took it off, to reveal a sweaty, but otherwise perfectly healthy face, a glimmer in his eyes that Rey read as enjoyment.

'I am Kylo Ren,' he said. 'Leader of the First Order. Welcome to peace.'

He wiped a forearm across his forehead, flourished his weapon once and then stalked off, out of shot.

Rose stood behind Rey. 'What happened to 'Supreme'?' she said.

Rey didn't move from her chair, digesting the fact that Ben was alive, and still in charge, and out there somewhere, fighting his enemies without her. She switched over to the alternative broadcasters, who were busy analysing the impact of the First Order's judicial code and speculating on the value of the arms that the Order had already destroyed as part of its strategy to end existing unlawful conflicts. More breaking news had Rey turning back to Holonet to see the source. The First Order communications team was clearly working overtime.

 _'In combination with the publication of our code for intergalactic peace, the First Order has outlawed all syndicates and cartels. Here on Ventara, the First Order identified the headquarters of the Terrachin Junta, a syndicate built on slave trafficking across the Outer Rim, and this morning we destroyed its operational capabilities. Similar raids are underway against the headquarters of all other major cartels in the galaxy, and anyone with information on the individuals involved in such criminal activity is encouraged to contact us. Informants will be protected from reprisals.'_

The footage showed a badly damaged building in the background, an enormous sign bearing the emblem of the traffickers smashed into pieces in the dirt and then into shot marched the no longer Supreme Leader of the First Order, kicking a bit of debris out of the way with his boot.

'I am Kylo Ren,' he said. 'And I am creating a new order for the galaxy – but don't take my word for it. Judge me by my actions.'

The lens lingered on his face for a while, and Rey lingered on it for even longer, replaying the image in her mind long after it had faded. Holonet cut away and replaced the picture with detailed updates on the progress of attacks against a wide range of groups, all of which had flourished under the New Republic, which had never been strong enough to stamp them out. The feeds from different combat zones were patched onto the main broadcast channel one by one with live updates from a knowledgeable sounding First Order commander commentating on the military tactics employed by both sides. It made for mesmerising viewing and Rey simply sat and watched, barely conscious of the rest of the Resistance filtering in one by one to watch on the shuttle's bigger screen and more up to date technology.

Late into the night the focus changed again, with Holonet now broadcasting a slightly calmer scene of a large room somewhere, extravagantly decorated in blue and yellow and populated by a selection of richly dressed men and women, all clapping politely.

In hushed tones, the narrator described what was happening. _'In a momentous ceremony, the last of the worlds previously conquered by the First Order has been given back the authority to self govern, under the benevolent leadership of Kylo Ren. The moon of Kiskata became the seventy third realm to be released by the Order since Supreme Leader Snoke was replaced and will retain its own elected representatives in return for upholding the First Order's judicial code, and payment of a carefully calibrated tariff.'_

There was a close up of a slightly stunned looking official, holding some kind of laminated First Order emblem, stammering through a pre-prepared announcement before the angle panned out to reveal the man standing next to him.

'I am Kylo Ren,' he said. 'And I am building a new order. I can't do it alone. I want you to join me.'

The shot stayed on his face for a little too long and Rey knew, without anyone needing to say anything at all, that he was talking to her. Only to her, despite the countless trillions watching, all thinking that he was seeking their support, their approval as well, all hoping that this broadcast meant that the First Order had changed. In the hubbub of the Resistance leadership arguing with each other, no one noticed that she wasn't able to tear her gaze from the screen. There was a look in his eyes that she recognised, a long ago look from a throneroom far away when he'd asked her the same thing and she'd turned him down.

'What's he doing?' Finn asked the question on everyone's lips.

'It's a trick,' answered Poe. 'It has to be a trick. The man enjoys torture and murder. He wouldn't stop wars, stamp out crime, free planets or ask everyone to help him if he didn't have an ulterior motive.'

'Then what's he doing?' Finn asked again.

Rey cleared her throat. 'I think he's ruling. Although he doesn't have any training in how to do it.'

Leia snorted. 'He doesn't need training. My son was born to rule.'

Rey gave her a sidelong glance. The pride in her tone was unmistakeable.

'Alright, so he's ruling,' Finn acknowledged. 'But why's he doing it like this? This isn't how the First Order is supposed to rule, is it? This is more like how we'd rule.'

'Except that we'd have democracy, rather than a dictatorship. And we wouldn't threaten everyone with the army for disobeying us,' retorted the General.

'But we're not in a position to rule at the moment, are we? He is.' Rey caught Leia's return sidelong glance. 'And I didn't hear any threats in what he said. I heard him asking for support. Do dictators usually do that? Maybe he's trying to be something else, something new.'

'I agree with Poe,' the older woman said. 'He must have an ulterior motive to have suddenly decided on this course of action. What could possibly have changed over the last few days to make him behave in such an unexpected manner?'

'It isn't sudden. Or unexpected,' Rey couldn't help pointing out. 'He said he wanted to create a new order when he asked me to join him before the battle on Crait. And when you just handed me over to the First Order after I was paralysed he was already moving in this direction, he'd already started freeing slaves. This isn't new. He's just making changes more quickly, that's all.'

'Ah.' Leia folded her arms. 'I see. You planned this new order together. In bed.'

'No.' Rey narrowed her eyes. 'I wasn't helping him. But maybe I should have. Maybe that would have been better than hiding in the jungle doing nothing.'

'Even though he isn't the person you thought he was? Even though you can't trust him?' The General's scorn was evident. 'I know my son. He wanted you to rule the galaxy with him, didn't he?' she continued, a steely glint in her eye. 'He's building this new order for you.'


	29. Chapter 29

Kylo amended a few words on the final copy and then gave the go ahead for publication. If this didn't drag her out of the stinking swamp where she'd parked his shuttle, then nothing would. He ran a hand through his hair, considered another hot drink, then took the pad over to bed instead. Tiredness was only to be expected after the exertion of the last few days, but he knew from recent experience that sleep would be a scarce commodity.

The removal of Hux had been a turning point. He'd called his four captains together immediately, pleased to find they'd all survived the coup, set out plans for a bold and decisive course of action, and then crashed into bed for a night and a day. As soon as he woke he'd gone to war. The army needed to be reminded where its loyalties lay, so he decided to attempt a lesson from the General Hux school of management, and lead by example, rather than through fear. He preceded his troops into battle, visible and forward facing, targeting the few major conflicts still raging within the First Order's new territories, destroying their weapons, and bringing the fights to a speedy end. She couldn't possibly disapprove of that, he'd mused, running his lightsaber through a soldier still defending a weapons dump on Thine. He was bringing order to the galaxy with minimal loss of life, while simultaneously removing rival munitions arsenals which might become a problem if they fell into the hands of anyone not sympathetic to the First Order's cause.

Then he went to fight with the battalions engaging the cartels. This was slightly more complex, because he'd also needed the expertise of Captain Four's financial team to capture and confiscate assets, before wiping out the leadership of the syndicates themselves and appropriating all their resources. Rey couldn't argue that freeing the galaxy from organised crime was detrimental to peace, in fact, he was pretty sure she'd be impressed by it.

Then, to highlight his magnanimous side, he made a show of freeing the last First Order owned world, managing to attend a public ceremony while dodging both small talk and canapes, which was the achievement of which he was most proud. She couldn't help but understand that message.

Actions mattered, not words – he'd tried words and that had failed spectacularly because she'd just laughed and rejected 'I love you' in the same way she'd rejected 'join me'. Instead, he'd decided to show her the new order that was hers to rule, when she changed her mind. It was in his power to lay the galaxy at her feet, and that was exactly what he was going to do. And not just the galaxy.

She could turn him down as much as she wanted, hide in the jungle as much as she liked, all he needed was one minute with her, one second even, and she'd come back to him.

He watched the news item now playing on Holonet. ' _The First Order is proud to announce its sponsorship of a new chapter house of the Knights of Ren training academy to be based on the crystal mining planet of Drassia. The academy, which will offer a programme based on the teachings of the Sith -_ ' Here the footage cut to a shot of the inside of the library. ' _And the Jedi –'_ The closeup changed to Rey's Jedi textbooks and stayed on them for the rest of the announcement. _'- Will be open to receive applications from candidates who would like to be trained in using both sides of the Force from tomorrow, when it will be formally commissioned by Leader of the First Order, Kylo Ren.'_

The textbooks faded out slowly, giving anyone who might be watching the chance to verify that they were, in fact, the real thing.

He had argued that if he didn't offer some kind of official training, any potential Force users in the galaxy would simply seek out Rey on their own, whereas with this approach he might be able to identify them before they became a threat. Lourdey had pretended to believe that argument, but Kylo could tell the other man thought he was simply trying to make amends. The fact that this was a trap never crossed his mind.

Rey would never come back to him on her own, she needed an incentive, something to give her an excuse to seek him out, and the books she'd left behind provided exactly the right kind of lure.

He put one hand behind his head, accessed Hux's surveillance records again. The late General's intelligence capabilities had been impressive, when Kylo had finally managed to work out how to use them, and he'd saved the recording of Rey alone in bed, murmuring his name and touching herself under the covers for his own personal consumption in the newly rebuilt 'exercise' room. Hux had never left the Destroyer, eluding Kylo's surveillance easily with his own superior technology and the help of the Praetorian Guard. Looking back, Kylo had realised he should have taken more notice of the fact that there was no record of Hux having corresponded with Captain Casenby about his short lived rebellion, or having ordered the poisoning attempt on Kylo's life. He should have realised then that Hux was capable of hiding his movements, but he'd been too busy concentrating on Rey to take much notice. He tapped the screen.

It was only because of the tracking programme Hux had installed on the command shuttle that Kylo was able to watch the glowing dot that signalled Rey's exact location while he lay in bed and imagined all the things he'd do with her when she came home. This was her home now, she belonged with him.

The removal of Hux had been a turning point in more ways than one. Kylo had decided he no longer wanted to lay claim to the title of 'Supreme Leader', Hux's thoughts on whether love was a weakness when in power having hit a nerve. Supremacy implied loneliness and he'd had his fill of that. He was still going to lead the First Order, but he wasn't planning on doing it by himself. The General had also demonstrated, very adeptly, that being alone, unpopular, and without any form of external or internal support, was not a comfortable position for the leader of a regime to be in. It made that leader susceptible to coups and internal plotting, as well as more organised external rebellion, particularly if he had spent his entire life relying on fear as a form of control. If he was going to stay in power, Kylo was going to need support, definitely from the army, and preferably from the wider population as well. He was going to need to be liked and, given that had never been one of his strengths, he needed Rey to help him, on a political level.

He lay back, left the dot glowing on the screen and closed his eyes, not expecting much in the way of rest. He hadn't slept properly since exhaustion had caught up with him not long after Rey had fled and he'd opened his eyes the next morning to a life without her. This bed was too big, that was the problem, too big and too cold and too empty with her gone, and most of the time it felt like he was lying on nails. In the daytime he could bury the pain of separation by hitting things, marching up and down and shouting a lot but at night there was nothing to do but remember. The memories hurt – the betrayal in her eyes after the bond was broken, the sound of her footsteps hurrying away. He needed Rey on a personal level, in a way that was far more immediate than any political consideration and it was her absence that kept him awake. Tomorrow he would do something about that.

He washed and dressed carefully the next morning, finding himself humming at odd intervals, with a feeling in the pit of his stomach that mostly felt like happiness and only occasionally resembled nerves. There was already an enormous crowd in front of the hastily erected podium when he arrived, and he scanned it carefully, looking for a familiar shape, someone trying to stay concealed in the throng. The shuttle was still in the forest, but Rey would be here, he was certain of it.

The building chosen for his new training academy was an old music hall of some kind with wide open spaces on the lower floors and smaller rooms above that could be turned into accommodation. Work to convert it into the facility he had in mind had barely begun, but he'd been so keen to advertise its opening that he hadn't wanted to wait. Rey might want to oversee the designs anyway, it might give her a hobby when she wasn't supervising the army for him.

Lourdey and the members of his cabinet were waiting on stage, perched uncomfortably on the narrow, high stools used for ceremonial occasions. Kylo gestured to the couple of personal attendants he now employed instead of the Praetorian Guard and a very large, padded and comfortable throne was carried onto the stage and placed next to the waiting dignitaries.

'I came prepared this time,' Kylo remarked, completing the opening formalities.

'Where's your Jedi friend?' Lourdey's sharp eyes scanned the empty space behind him.

'She'll be along in a minute.'

'So you're opening a Jedi temple without a Jedi?'

'It isn't a Jedi temple, I've told you twice already. The academy is going to run the standard combat training course that you and I both did and if anyone shows any promise in other areas I'll come back and train them myself. There's no one else I can ask to manage this, you know that. But if you want to change your mind I won't hold you to it.'

Lourdey stood, made a detailed and lengthy speech outlining the history of the Knights of Ren, name checking its most illustrious alumni, and excoriating the memory of Supreme Leader Snoke for wiping it out with such a colourful selection of insults and expletives that some of the audience cheered. 'Does that mean I'll be seeing a lot more of you?' he asked, on the way back to his seat.

'Possibly.' Kylo fumbled with his notes. 'Is that alright?' He approached the lectern. 'I declare this facility open,' he said, and sat back down.

'That's alright,' responded the Lord High Drass, with a twinkle in his eye. 'As long as you're buying the drinks.'

Kylo shook his head. 'I don't –' He stopped. It really was time to let the past die. It was time to put his training, and all the distrust, suspicion and fear it brought with it behind him. 'Maybe,' he conceded, with a shrug.

'I'll look forward to it.' Lourdey Drassia turned back to the crowd. 'First candidate,' he yelled.

A young man with the bright yellow skin and horns of someone from Menphos Four made it to the front of the queue, picked up the staff from the floor, put on the full-face helmet and then stood waiting, while Kylo levitated rocks at his head and watched to see if he'd be able to anticipate each blow without his sight. The crowd cheered as first one, then another and another and then the first third of the queue of candidates got smacked around the face with remotely controlled missiles before trooping off the stage bearing disappointed expressions. It took three hours to find a single person who was able to block a shot without looking and was allowed to pass between the watching rulers and enter the training temple.

Once inside they would find the remnants of the Praetorian Guard who'd been able to satisfactorily demonstrate their changed allegiance, ready to begin day to day supervision of the training programme. Kylo had had all the squad's equipment transferred to Drassia with the exception of the red uniforms, which he was rather hoping Rey would redesign so he didn't have to bother. Shifting uncomfortably around on his stool Lourdey got bored not long after and, with a sour look at where Kylo lounged smugly in his cushioned chair, excused himself to go and do some actual ruling.

Kylo scanned the crowd, continued the sift but by early evening it had become apparent that Rey wasn't coming. There were no more applicants to see, so he followed the last of the lucky four through the wide double doors, wondering if he'd underestimated the time it would take her to travel to Drassia, especially if she was having to do it on public transport. The doors swung open on the brand new, first ever, Jedi/Sith training temple and revealed, right in the middle of it, a fully armed Jedi, busy demonstrating how to position a chokehold on an ex Praetorian Guard.

There was some applause when she'd finished, and Kylo simply stood and waited until she noticed him, content just to look at her for a while. No one else had the impact on him that she did. Although she was travel stained and dust smeared, still dressed in those unflattering clothes, although that look in her eye told him she was still angry, and the lightsaber that jumped into her hands made her a deadly threat, his mind still ran amok with images of her naked, in dozens of compromising positions, in every single one of which she was climaxing for him. He grinned at her like an idiot.

'Where are the books?' she demanded rudely, and he gestured for her to follow him to the back of the hall.

Down a corridor, a door unlocked to his thumbprint, peeling open to reveal a small room, simply furnished with a wide, wooden bed covered in crisp white sheets, and a metal grille set into the wall.

'I take it you've dragged me all the way here so you can apologise?' she snapped, because he was concentrating on unlocking the safe and not bothering with chit chat.

He glanced at her over his shoulder. 'For loving you too much to let you go? Why would I apologise for that? Here.' He turned, balancing the pile of books in both hands.

She reached out to take them, and as she did so, his left hand let go of the stack and sealed itself on top of hers instead. The precious Jedi texts hit the floor like so much crumpled paper, and she raised her eyes to his, wide and staring. He smiled at her gently, because he had been proven right and he could afford to enjoy this moment of discovery. She was fixed in place, her hand paused in mid air where he was touching it.

'It feels the same,' she choked out eventually. 'When you touch me, it feels the same.'

His free hand found her cheek, ghosted across her pores, settled with his thumb on her cheekbone, stroking the curve of her face. She shuddered and there was resistance as she pressed back into his palm. Her eyes searched his. 'You broke the bond, didn't you? You haven't created a new one?'

He shook his head, stepped into her space, close enough to feel the heat of her breath, the tremor in her muscles. He brushed the pad of his thumb over her skin. 'This is personal,' he replied. 'I told you it was.'

He put his hand on her waist, drew her towards him and her eyes flickered shut at the pleasure of the contact before popping open again.

'No. You said punishment and reward. Punished when we're apart, rewarded when we're together. That was why I always felt so happy when you showed up, right from the start. That was how the bond made me feel, not you.'

In a minute he was going to start kissing her, and once he started, he wouldn't be able to stop. Ever. 'I thought about it after you left, and I checked the books in the library. Snoke never rewarded me for anything, he was all about pain, and the Sith books encourage passion, but not love. Not this.' He pulled her tight against him and his flesh responded so strongly he knew she wouldn't miss it. 'The way I feel when you're near me, it's real. The things I used to imagine when we met - I thought they were coming from the bond but they were real too. This has always been real. Snoke's bond never had anything to do with it.'

He'd recognised this truth the first time he'd woken up in his own bed without her, and realised that the longing in his heart was still the same, despite the fact that she'd rejected him again, despite the fact that the bond was broken. He'd recognised too the convenient lie he'd told himself about the nature of the bond to disguise the obvious reality. The books simply confirmed what his heart told him. No Sith, or Jedi could create love where it didn't already exist. It couldn't be manipulated by the Force, because it was so much stronger. Love couldn't levitate rocks, or throw enemies across the room, but it could change minds and it had changed his.

She raised her hands, running her fingers up his stomach, splaying them across his chest as if confirming her ownership of his heart.

He lowered his volume so that he could pour his words directly into her ear. 'And the way you feel when I do this.' His hand slid up from her waist over her stomach and cupped her breast confidently, eliciting a full body shudder from her that had his groin bending the front of his trousers. 'That's how I make you feel. Just me. No one else.'

She might well be the most powerful Jedi who had ever lived and she was going to sit on a throne and lead the First Order with him as an equal, but she would come apart in his arms, shout for him, scream his name, spread her legs and show him she loved him and in return for that, he would give her anything, anything at all.

'Shall I ask you to join me again?' he whispered, trying to read the expression in her eyes. 'I will. On my knees if I have to.'

She took a very deep breath and her hands fisted into the front of his tunic in a way he hoped indicated smouldering passion.

'It feels the same.' Her voice was less shaky, more determined. 'But that it isn't enough.'


	30. Chapter 30

He took a step back and his eyes went wide. Rey let go of his clothing, about to take a risk she might regret, even though it felt like the right thing to do.

'Actions matter, not words, and you've shown that I can't trust you. You lied to me.'

A shadow crossed his face. 'For good reason. I won't do it again if you say you'll stay.'

'You tortured my friend. Why should I forgive you?'

'I've already given orders that the Resistance will be left alone as long as they obey the law, that's all I ask. And I'll be changing my interrogation methods as well. I didn't enjoy being tortured much.'

She folded her arms, pushed to see how far he'd go. 'I won't stand by and let you terrify everyone into submission. I'll fight you if I have to. I want fairness, and justice for all, and peace and I want democracy.'

He shrugged. 'I'll consider it, if you stay.'

'You'll need to do more than consider it.'

'If you walk away from me again I can't say what I'll do. Or what I'll become.'

'Was that supposed to be a threat? Kylo.' The last word was an accusation.

His face darkened. 'The way I feel about you isn't enough, is it? You don't love me enough to stay without political reform. You probably don't love me enough to stay without threats either.'

She tilted her head, questioning. 'That might be what you heard, but it wasn't what I said.'

His expression softened slightly. 'Sit on the throne, rule the galaxy. You already rule me.'

She swallowed, because he was offering her everything she'd ever wanted, which wasn't a throne or power, but the chance to make a difference, a place to belong and love. Most of all love.

Still unsure, she spread her hands. 'Loving me doesn't change who you are, or how you've lived your life. You betray everyone who loves you. How can I trust you again? Where do I start?'

He shrugged, but it was a stiff and uncomfortable gesture and she had the sense he was forcing the words. 'You can read my mind like Snoke used to. Check that I'm telling the truth.'

She started shaking her head before he'd finished the sentence, conscious of the desperation revealed by that offer. He was no longer the man with the mask who'd dedicated his time to threatening her, he was vulnerable, as close to begging as she'd ever seen him, but the thought that he was equating her with Snoke horrified her. His relationship with his former master was no laughing matter. He wasn't perfect, and his past would always come between them if she let it, but if she wanted to have any involvement in his future she was going to have to stop holding on, let the past die, as he'd once suggested. 'That's not what I want.'

'Then I don't know what you want. I don't know what I'm supposed to do.'

'Don't tell me,' she said, deciding. 'Show me. Show me you love me today, and tomorrow and every other day until the day you die. Talk to me. Trust me. Show me I'm not alone.'

He cocked his head to one side, considering, but his eyes were shining. 'And will you do the same?'

'I will.'

'There's no going back. This is forever. You won't be part of the Resistance any more, you'll be on my side. And I'll be on yours. No Jedi, no Sith, something new, something we create for ourselves. A new order.'

She took a deep breath, aware of everything she was leaving behind – it would be far more of a challenge to use the power she had been given in the right way, than perch on the moral high ground and criticise from afar. 'Good.' She smiled. 'I'm not sure I like your mother.'

'Then I offer you my hand.' This time she heard the formality behind the words, the sense that he was giving her not just his outstretched fingers, but the rest of him as well, with all its faults and flaws, and all its wonder.

She reached out and took it, despite the risk, because he'd asked twice and twice was enough. 'I accept it. And I offer you mine in return.' She let him draw her in and stretching up, she slid her palm over his cheek, watching his eyelids flutter as he registered the rapture of that touch.

'It hurts when you're not here,' he said, a small smile touching the mouth closing the distance towards hers.

'I can't breathe without you,' she answered, because this was what she needed to survive, this man, this life.

Then he was kissing her and she stood there and kissed him back until she felt his control beginning to fray and she could start removing his clothes.

The heavy tunic came off without a hitch, and she wondered if she could get him to wear something that wasn't black, and maybe a little less formal when they were alone if she issued a royal decree. She broke contact with his mouth to touch her lips to his chest instead, getting distracted by how much of it there was that needed kissing and how absolutely all of it belonged to her.

He glanced down indulgently at the dark head ranging over his skin, took the opportunity to strip off the top half of her cheap layered garments, flinging the breast band away in disgust and considering whether he could slip some cleaner, whiter clothes on her without her noticing as soon as he got her back to the ship. His hands covered the small mounds of her breasts easily and she stopped tonguing his chest long enough to look down at herself; he could tell that she liked the sight by the sudden hardness under his palms, the sparkle in her eyes, the wetness of her lower lip.

'Massive hands,' she commented approvingly, feeling the warmth growing between her legs in anticipation. He was going to use those hands on her again, fill up the empty places inside her with his body and his love, over and over again until she started really believing she wasn't alone.

He gave her a smile, concentrating on freeing her from the rest of her clothes, pushed her backwards so that she bounced onto the bed, coming to rest with her legs open and her eyes burning. There was something about having her fully naked while he was still dressed that appealed to him, he decided, idly wondering whether to fuck her with his fingers first, or his tongue. It was some kind of power exchange, where she had no clothes and was under his control while he retained his dignity and his authority. He knelt on the floor, pulling her hips forward and placing kisses in carefully thought out positions from the soles of her feet upwards.

She propped herself up on one arm and watched him. There was one thing about the black uniform that she did like, she mused, and that was him wearing it while he was on his knees licking her clitoris, or when he was sitting on his throne and climaxing in her mouth. It was some kind of power exchange, where she was in charge, and could watch as the leader of the galaxy used his tongue for her pleasure, and lost control of himself if she so much as breathed too near his crotch.

His hands spread her thighs and he savoured that first taste, familiar but still unexpected, all musky salt and secret heat and he slid a finger inside her at the same time, revelling in the way she trembled as she felt it and the way she shifted her legs wider. She liked this, her hips arching up into his touch, and he liked the fact that she liked it, he wanted her to tell him what else she liked so that he could make all her fantasies come true. He paused with two fingers caught in her internal vice, noting how she'd closed her eyes and wound her hands into the sheets for support, as he tried to imagine what else she might dream about, and whether the contents of his refurbished exercise room might satisfy those desires.

Luckily, he had a free hand to reach down and release the fastening on his trousers to provide some much needed relief as the thought of the things he might do to her in that room powered through his imagination. She groaned, and he increased the pace of his tongue, inserted another finger at the silent request of her bucking hips. Despite how she'd boasted about having done this more times than him he was willing to bet that her experience wasn't extensive for the simple reason that nothing else was going to fit inside her, no matter how much she begged. If she wanted to act out that particular fantasy she was going to need…training. He swallowed hard, her taste in this throat. She might let him train her, in that room, with that equipment, if he asked nicely. Or maybe she might want to train him.

There was going to be a lot of sex in his future, which was a challenge he was more than happy to accept, but if it went on for long enough and happened as many times as he was expecting, it would lead to an obvious conclusion. The contraception he had taken wasn't going to last forever, and then he would have to have another awkward conversation with Rey about it. Unless he didn't. Unless it became apparent at some point in the future that neither of them wanted to use birth control any more. Unless they decided to become a family, and then he would have more than just Rey to love, and to be loved by.

He'd stopped. She was right on the edge of an orgasm when she became aware that he'd stopped and came crashing down into reality again. His head was still between her legs but there was a stunned expression on his face as if someone had hit him and when she threaded her fingers through his hair and tugged him up the bed it swiftly became apparent that he'd stopped concentrating on her and was thinking about something else entirely. Clearly, he was going to need to learn to focus.

She flipped him onto his back and he didn't protest as she slid off the already open trousers and then bent her head to his jutting erection. She worked her way down his shaft with careful swirls of her tongue, but he barely seemed to notice. Whatever he was thinking about must be having quite an effect, although it didn't look like he was planning on telling her what it was. She would have to train him to be a lot more honest in future, if she was going to trust him properly, and not just in bed. There was no room for lies or secrets between them. He slid between her lips, his taste strong in her mouth and she swallowed down the prelude to his climax, deciding that he really didn't need any more in the way of foreplay.

Kneeling up, she took a firm, guiding grasp and sank down on top of him, taking him deep while his eyes flickered open and his hands raised to grip her hips, holding her down as he thrust upwards. The sensation ripped through her, dancing lightning along her spine, arching her back. This was pleasure, and desire, and want and hope and need all balled up together and as she stretched around him she felt it in the core of her being - love, strong and sure, binding her to him more powerfully than any link created by the Force. He was going to learn how much she loved him, and through that, he would learn to love himself. He had a lot of training still to do.

She was magnificent, he thought, riding his cock with her eyes dark and her breath panting through her open mouth, her breasts bouncing with the effort, her clitoris a tight ball beneath his rubbing thumb, her cunt locked tight around him as he pushed into it hard. This was love, and it was no wonder his old master had tried to keep him away from it for so long, the power of it was transformative. He could tell already that he'd do anything to make sure she felt like this about him forever, that this same feeling between them, this bond endured. He wasn't going to last much longer though, and he wanted to feel her climax through her kiss, so he lifted her off him, rolled her onto her back and drove himself between her legs without missing a stroke.

She wrapped herself around him, her arms across his back, legs clinging to his hips as her body and her mouth opened to welcome him in. This was the new order he'd wanted, dreamed of, he thought, racing towards climax with her soft flesh yielding beneath him, urging him on. This place where love and sex collided, where his past died and was forgotten and his future was born.

Rey jammed her tongue into his mouth roughly, and her body began to shake in his arms as she thrashed into orgasm and he rammed home a few final thrusts and spilled himself into her with a single thought: this is who I'm meant to be.

I think this is my last story so thanks to every one who has been reading, I appreciate it. If you would like to read more of my writing my two romance novels The Car Crash Bride and The Postman's Daughter by Sally Anne Palmer are available now in print and ebook on Amazon, Smashwords and other online bookshops.


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